Cold Twin
The turn came,
the twin birthed
the fixed look back
the minutes skipped,
stare yourself in the face
not recognise the eyes, the mind
that got you here.
Thickness constricts,
the dais deals, revolves, is sold on
make money
wake up, eyes wide, days sear
the skin, find you swim in the
common pool of common women,
the norm pours your throat
see turds float
the muck raked-up
and you're there too, one of them
no different
no better
no clever
no sight
cigarettes, false nails
complaining of their men's
dirty habits,
smoke kissed into air,
speculative glance,
bars and beer hands,
curtained cubicles,
the begging game.
The turn came, neck-twist and face
the sane tide washed in
didn't clean
the smut, the stinking
standing in their tides.
Mirror silts
sagging birthing
of soil and blood,
the tiny body at your back
chucked in the sink
drains away.
previous poem
next poem