so I said,
you invent these characters
but pretty soon they start taking on a life of their own

and he said,
ah right, your latest novel

and I said,
err, no.

~ ~ ~


Mad running stair-girl falls
clunky munky bashy scrapey
wailing impaling picture framing
ouch crash smash
just a small cut
mum in green silk
brings milk and biscuits
spin back the days
watch a story like we're not here
small blood stains on banister
small feet lose footing
radio talks like nothing had happened
crumbs of biscuit tinkle on plate
no tears now, no radio
no one knows the story
unfed, untended
body frozen, stuck rigid
nothing moves
old radio, old music
a glimpse of a factory
a field of machines clatter and rattle
threads and needles
long silk threads
wound and neat
neatly wound green

~ ~ ~