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Pre-Mortem

I'd been trying to write a poem

Just one ******* poem

But he said

*Just **** around*

Swallow down a bowl full of squares

Let’s play games with each other’s minds

Spend a night lost in a house of cards

Where the joker cackles despite your begging

A reminder of what I could do without

Shouting at the world from the white pavilion

You suckers!

With your skirts hitched up and tongues hanging out

Gagging on a lover’s loneliness

All I see is your undergarments crying for attention

With a liquor solace barely down your throat

 

Eighteen silver blades

Smile at me with their perfect teeth

One to mark each year that past

A nineteenth will not be necessary

Ready to drag

Like the man trailing his head on a string

Across the surgeon’s winking knife

Tapping their toes on the bathroom counter

Anxious to mingle with my flesh

I’ve already scrubbed in

The survival rate looks dismal

The cotton reel loosens and my halo slips

Down - the noose around my neck

 

He sat across the room in plaid

Remarked upon the crosshatch of red

That drew the crooked red grin on the white of my thigh

Like loops of raspberry liquorice

Seeping out sticky tears

He misses handling the vegetables

Who ordered cocktails in lurid colours

Well, I’ve a mélange of my own

A collection of prescriptions from the doctor’s office

Stored in a heart shaped box

To swallow down like jelly beans

I’m waiting for that deadly sugar rush

 

Death’s been dancing on my doorstep

Absent minded as I sit at the dinner table

Head in hand, foot in grave

There’ll be no morning migraine

Perhaps a little mourning in the peripheral vision

Swept up from beneath the climbing frame

Under a soil blanket with a tomb stone mattress

Coughing up the sand in my throat

That I emptied from the egg-timer

Those darling quadrilateral crystals

Blissful in their ignorance  

Disturbing my quiet complacency

Drowned in a glass of tomato juice

That I poured from my skull

Death holds my hand in the dark

And I whisper to pass on the message

Bury me with pyjama’s and a pillow

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Written by
clemence-huet
French
Published
Apr 8, 2012
Lines·Words
57·362
Permission

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