The poets

Thursday, 4 June 2020

Sensitive

We always hear the gunshots
And then the jackboots
Striding over goose steps.
And the goosesteps across my heart
And goosebumps in my throat.
And the goose fat in the pan.
And the goose.
Just stop. Watch.
Close your eyes. These goose 
steps are not dance moves.




6/2020
BoomBoom Betty and PotShot Pointer
2007

5 comments:

  1. these goose steps haunt many, hope they never return. funnily enough just recently I thought I heard them in the still of the night, I wonder what can exorcise such ghosts.

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  2. Poetry, wine, beer, a whisky, or a G&T...some snacks...and good friends,,,seems to work for me!

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    Replies
    1. there is something else hiding in these goose steps and I may write about it soon. A poetic exorcism.

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    2. there are and writing soon is coming - i have been through the mangle at work. Awful. Need a rest x

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  3. Someone once said to me at a crucial moment something about those goose steps being 'ours' to share - I'm getting better at sharing! I'm still a bit defensive :D Sensitive is the title for this suitcase...in a hallway, on the step x

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