Tuesday, May 9, 2017

Kerri Shying R # 238 - Fiddle


Sunday night  6.43 there was nobody
on chat   it was a dusty street  with all the blinds

pulled down  I thought hello
they’ve all gone back to normal things

sweeping paths  defleaing pets acquiring bad
drug habits  tidying the garter drawer

dissembling the mozzie nets  that hang in winter like
nightmares stuck in a revolving door   and frighten

little ones    into parental beds   I could hear the
chop chop chop of blades   felt the ping of loss

for the ready dissolution of the seconds
standing between me and        next me next me

next time       I fear might not be      I don’t want to
rub off all these imagined places

for the narration    it will


  1. Oh that fourth couplet - I'd kill for that - well you know what I mean!

  2. Brilliant, Kerri. I love the rhythm.


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