Thursday, April 27, 2017


Come forth from the King of the Past the
man said  -  he nodded as he talked. I'd
seen others who spoke like that, and never
liked it at all. Pedantic nitwits and the
know-it-all sorts. Up front of the room,
everyone was watching him, but no one
cared. If Lucifer had a pale brother,
it could have been him.
So I listened as I boned up on his math.
Not the kind of thing I liked to do; the watching
of his dumb chalk-dust fly, noticing his nerves
of steel, the pointed attitude he kept towards
all things 'beneath' him. I was willing to
bet he'd not had sex until he was 26.
That's the sort of white trash we get left with
now  - the right and most proper ones, who
call it all down. Ring around the rosy, a
pocketful of posies; ashes, ashes, we
all wear a frown.

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