Monday, October 3, 2016

Kristen de Kline #2 She heard them talking

It was when she was picking up Hillbilly Cider, croissants and sour dough from the Arm and the Leg 
Shop, that she heard them talking.

They didn’t have names faces recognised quantities known ingredients.  There never were anymore there was a  lot she couldn’t remember there was a lot she couldn’t forget.

But there were words here and voices there.

Hastily scribbled words fall-fall-falling off the blue lined pages of the Spirax notebook.

But there were voices here and words there.

In the Arm and a Leg Shop she heard them talking:

I’m over bodies and much more into pipes and pumps.

Sometimes I just want to fuck you.

I used to do drugs, now I’m into homicide.

Even though she’s lost her head, she still may have some leaf.

She heard them talking

she heard them


  1. Yikes. Like a cocktail party of ghosts.

  2. love your use of repetition, really good writing

  3. Thanks fellow poets - yes Rob it is a bit like a ghostly cocktail party or a cocktail party of ghosts, isn't it?


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