Up on the roof a naked president smears himself with jam. One final pleasure in the abject misery of his self-knowledge.He's distressed, we can hear that now. Sobs wrack his body, and somehow threaten to spoil the moment for a moment.
But now he's back on track, throwing the coil of three-core around his neck. He checks the knot, and steps off the edge.
Now before the cord pulls tight, he shouts; 'I'm Donald Trump, please forgive me!'
and the windows all around fly open, and a thousand voices cry out; 'No fucking way.'
As his spine is snapped apart, I'm thinking; 'God, I hope he heard them'.
(But now he's back on track, throwing the coil of three-core around his neck. He checks the knot, and steps off the edge.
Now before the cord pulls tight, he shouts; 'I'm Donald Trump, please forgive me!'
and the windows all around fly open, and a thousand voices cry out; 'No fucking way.'
As his spine is snapped apart, I'm thinking; 'God, I hope he heard them'.
drimble he'd been white, he'd been black,
Sun 26 Nov 2017, 0:09,
archived)
This fine and evocative writing isn't getting the attention it deserves.Shakespeare himself would have doffed his hat.
(
Tart Monkey,
Sun 26 Nov 2017, 19:08,
archived)