Monday 23 July 2018

23rd July 2018

ragged clouds
speeding through an empty sky
a trio of swifts


© Rachel Green 2018

Cleaning Time

evening street
could be London, Nottingham, Mancs
and I'm walking along
no threat to nobody
middle life, middle age
overweight and unattractive.
He doesn't see me coming
or if he does, he pays no mind.
A skinny street boy
palming money from strangers
a slapped handshake transfers plastic
money for baggies.
A kid like this killed my daughter
accidental death, the coroner said,
through injecting heroin laced with baking soda
her own fault, you'd think,
but she didn't want to die
just an hour of oblivion.
A bicycle spoke;
a simple piece of wire,
thrust up under the ribs
three times, four.
Lacerated kidney, liver,
lung if I'm lucky
and no cameras to see
he'd chosen that for me.

My woollen glove, suddenly wet.


© Rachel Green 2018

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