Jerrybaldy
09-02-2010, 06:10 PM
I sure made a mess of that carpet.
I told Leonard I hated it, when he layed it.
Bloody awful paisley print.
I was grateful though
that he should go to such bother.
But it all went quiet again after he left.
So I listened to the children outside playing
and drank sherry from a plastic cup.
I was still a lady though
and I blew frothy kisses at the old hag,
who looked back as I cleaned my teeth.
I danced in my slippers on some afternoons
with that picture of you, Will, in my arms
my cigarette ash all down my cardie,
the sherry caressing my smoke dry throat.
People sometimes smiled as I headed to the shops
like I should be so damn grateful
and I would remember how I used to smile
at the elderly to make their day.
I hated that flat and that carpet
and when I fell to the floor,
quite dead whilst dancing
I brought that place to life.
Nobody knocked my door.
But my body lived again
over passing days,
impregnated with maggots
writhing within me,
devouring me like lovers long ago.
Oozing black
like long dead ejaculations,
giving birth to a hoard of flies,
buzzing about this quiet little flat.
All my little babies
blackening the air.
I decomposed into that bloody
paisley print.
When two weeks later
the smell reached the outside world
they burst in the door
and a thousand flies
flew free
each one a little part of me.
I told Leonard I hated it, when he layed it.
Bloody awful paisley print.
I was grateful though
that he should go to such bother.
But it all went quiet again after he left.
So I listened to the children outside playing
and drank sherry from a plastic cup.
I was still a lady though
and I blew frothy kisses at the old hag,
who looked back as I cleaned my teeth.
I danced in my slippers on some afternoons
with that picture of you, Will, in my arms
my cigarette ash all down my cardie,
the sherry caressing my smoke dry throat.
People sometimes smiled as I headed to the shops
like I should be so damn grateful
and I would remember how I used to smile
at the elderly to make their day.
I hated that flat and that carpet
and when I fell to the floor,
quite dead whilst dancing
I brought that place to life.
Nobody knocked my door.
But my body lived again
over passing days,
impregnated with maggots
writhing within me,
devouring me like lovers long ago.
Oozing black
like long dead ejaculations,
giving birth to a hoard of flies,
buzzing about this quiet little flat.
All my little babies
blackening the air.
I decomposed into that bloody
paisley print.
When two weeks later
the smell reached the outside world
they burst in the door
and a thousand flies
flew free
each one a little part of me.