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This digital blot
has been my saviour;
doing me a favour
though shadowed
as someone else’s
labour.

This digital blood
is my waiver.
Marks of trauma;
across my chest
and shoulder.

Digital.
Blot.
Blood.

Analogue
—demagogue.

🖋️
© Ayisha Rahman, 2024
Lawrence Hall Oct 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                      A Disembodied Hand Doomscrolling
                       on the Wall of Tia Maria’s Barbecue

                                       - not Daniel 5

Tiffany was treatin’ the girls to barbecue
The merry ol’ girls from her bowling league
(Dazzling team colors in pink and blue)
She had made herself captain through cruel intrigue

When suddenly a disembodied hand
Appeared with a smartphone by the restroom door
And keyed strange lines that in flickerings scanned:
“You’ll be sacked this evening - your team’s 0 to 4”

That very night Tiffany’s custom ball was taken
And she cried in her trailer, her heart a-breakin’
The world needs more rhyming doggerel.

— The End —