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Donall Dempsey
Poems
Jul 2017
MAL...FUN...CTION!
MAL...FUN...CTION!
Her voice was all italics.
Her worlds in bold
and in BLOCK CAPITALS.
"Shhhhhhhh!" I said
in lower case.
"Shhhhhhhh!" I said agian
reducing my voice to a size 9 font.
"You say you saw a head..."
I said
"...sticking out of
a brick wall!"
She just nodded her head.
Too scared of words.
And - sure enough
( God bless her little cotton socks )
there was a head
sticking out of a brick wall.
"Well..!" I said "...well!"
to steady my nerve.
I thought at first
it was only a ghost
a trainee ghost
not sure as yet
of the mechanics of the process
of passing through brick walls.
But the explication was
not as commonplace as all that.
"hElP mE. . .hElP mE!"
the head said
in a Capt. Kirik-ish
kind of way.
For yea - it was he.
I thought now was
a bad time
to ask for his autograph.
"Tele..." the head said.
"Yes, yes old chap?"
I said.
"...porter!" the head said.
"Ahh you see..." I said to her.
"There's always a logical explanation
...the teleporter broke down
just as he was being beamed down
through this here
brick wall>"
"Oh...is that all?"
she said
finding her voice again
and not too shy to use it.
And so we continued along
down to the local Bingo Hall.
Never was one
for all that
Star Trek stuff.
Written by
Donall Dempsey
Guildford
(Guildford)
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