beside the gutter
on the side of the road
blackened bruised and bibbing
flies drunk on spoilt juice
buzzing
What if I...
pick it up.
will it collapse
into fleshy rotten pieces
burdened with water and pus
or
will its fibers cling
veiny knots together
like a baby under attack
heavy
warm
Stinking of fear.
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6 comments:
I must admit, 'disgusting' at first sight... but as this is about how we observe and write about the things we live and see around us > I must admit 'superb'.
A bit shocking...fascinating moment...not sure about "baby under attack"...the idea makes the piece that much more impressive, but the sounds of the words don't seem to fit somehow.
Love that you're writing more these days!
Thank You Dulce :) I like that it disgusts and shocks you. Makes me vain ;p
Holly, I see what you mean with 'baby under attack'. The image is slightly vague, no? Will work on it, thanks!
Yes, the muse is kinder to me these days... things are actually moving in my life these days, an that definitely helped.
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I see this as a metaphor for how people face tough times. Do they bear up or fall to pieces?
I will admit I am more a fall to pieces type.
The last line was powerful.
My favorite part was:
will its fibers cling
veiny knots together
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