Friday, 7 January 2011

first free write in ages

God, I could do with throwing a sucker punch
and my head the grateful recipient
or perhaps ‘grateful’ is pushing it a little
but at least ‘deserving’ would be fitting

just haul back and let fly
unleash the pent up disaffection
swing, arc of perfection
straight from the shoulder, like he always told me I should

and in the ricochet
the whiplash second of rebound
as neck whips back, snaps to one side
tears, sweat, blood drops fly

potential kinetic potential again
and the moment stretches as I
step back, disbelief
wait for the response I have to offer

and for a moment, sparks
eyes promise life, perhaps
or at least retaliation of some kind
apathy slapped into action

but instead, sigh, droop
head – snapped-slapped
drops back to chest
shuffle, retreat, wallow

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