Red drool in a river of shit

But all the abattoir is dark:

Despite the darkness, little sleep

Under the starless roof.

In a small suburban home

Someone sucks the pulp from ribs

And consoles his flabby boy:

‘Don’t worry son! Who doesn’t cry

When they see Bambi’s mother die?’

By Matthew Chalmers

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: