Death Dance

We separate
ourselves two
metres apart,
into a honeycomb
of coffin-sized
spaces,
ready for
the falling.

Unmasked
assassins
roam the streets,
supermarkets,
parks, pubs;
looking
to give
the kiss
of Death,
to the unwary.

A man
on a train
dangles
his requirement
from his ear:
an ominous
black ear-ring.
Cavalier,
defiant,
shooting
daggers at the
wide-eyed –
the train pirate.

We are all
openly
bandits now.
Exposed
as Earth’s
villains:
rapacious,
voracious,
ungracious,
unjust,
…unkind.

Make no mistake;
this is a cull.

 

Heidi Stephenson


By Heidi Stephenson

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