Posted in Lies

Sweet and Sour

Her surname was a synonym for brutal
It seemed apt.
Older – not by much
a policewoman in the life before this
used to remaining unchallenged
and having the last word.

The workplace as playground contest
some feel obligated
baiting, taunting, gibing
put downs – timing is everything
skilful and lethal
like fisherman executing trout
with insects betrayed as barbs of wire.

When tension had passed
and anxiety calm
a deft feint of her tongue
the beheading edge.
One upmanship
with the discretion of a scalpel
the promiscuity of a bomb.

Away from an audience
her back turned against bravado
almost warm.
was meek Helen
working hard – very hard, pumping up tough Helen.



Most of my life has been spent on the bench, occasionally called into the game by extravagance or attenuation. Waiting has turned a loner into a recorder - nondescript and inconsequential, more not noticed than overlooked - the non-vantage point of children not yet considered old enough to understand. Orphaned Islands (Un)poetry is a lifetime of picking anecdotes up and not throwing them away. Stories collected like odds and ends placed in a box in the basement, the garage, the garden shed - uncertain as to what their use might be but knowing that one day there might be one.

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