The slain animal
Carcass strewn
Dead potential
Limp hand, unscrewn
Too late to be mourned
That clock
She stupidly adorned
Was a stopwatch.
Caution! Walkway ending!
So above her, doubled over
At that daft girl.
Who mistakes a travelator
For legs?
Non-unique, unspecial
Slowness in scores
A bookmark clique
In the book of metaphors
Undramatic tragedy
Like a mirror in the dark
One for borrowed identity
Cut, graft, stark
The firework waiting for
It’s match. The technicolour
Relief it deserves
In colour, a grimace and pain
It implodes. Sparkles spread
Imploring detachment
A factory product, no
Longer needed. What resentment.
A spectacle of stupidity
Even her home
Sprung legs
And abandoned her. Alone.
Paint the jail walls
Feed the delusion
Chain the white bird
Behind the open door
Slow down, hold grace
Said the script
But she feared the trace
Of her shadow.
Fallen, tripped
Leggings ripped.
Heart striped.
Tragedy, cinematically
Oh, such brutality
The violence is the art
Comedy is her fallen apart
The mace bearer
How weighty is shame
Ghostly figure
Tears so predictably lame
Suffocating in the least
Of the most
Please, some relief.
Let me be.
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