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Jan 2018
In the city of love there walks a boy,
His fury as red as the flags
That hang above his head.
An alien, neither here nor there,
Existence denied.

The censored fears
Of a sister
Herded like cattle.
No more rationality,
The city of love has no love for him.

Monday morning metro
A postcard never delivered
Desperation and
Five peppering shots,
Blood as red as the flags
That hang above his head.

‘I am not a dog.’
The glass shatters.
A heinous smile
And the screams of the thousands
Echo through the November night,
His the loudest of them all.
Iris Proctor
Written by
Iris Proctor  19/F/UK
(19/F/UK)   
202
     William A Gibson and Ryan Holden
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