Monday, 23 February 2009

  • my poem of awesomes

    Silly Punk wanted ideas for her poem, and I said dust and she said it was silly! SILLY! So I done it! and it is awesome! It's got everything - sinisterness, dust, lines that end in commas!

    I'll just sit back and wait for my Nobel Prize!

    ______________________________________

    Dust


    They made us think these escaped bits of us,
    Were re-grouping. Organised.
    In their too-quiet corners.

    They’d gather mass,
    And fluff,
    And dead things,
    And together they’d stir slowly,
    As if it was just the breeze.

    And we thought we saw them waiting.
    Biding their time in crannies,
    Gathering hairs to them for extra power.

    We dusted of course,
    And looked askance at our outsides.
    That they could want free of us so much!
    That it should come to this.

    Would long sleeves protect us?
    Or aid them by friction?
    If you’re not with us, you’re against us.
    And the dust was not with us.
    Not any longer.

    And then it turned out we were wrong,
    That it was mostly clothes that shed, not skin,
    Into those sinister drifts.
    And we looked suspiciously at our socks.


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