Friday, November 10, 2006

childhood deaths

We smelt mating snakes in the bushes,
While carrying our Hearse
To the freshly dug grave

My brother had tears well
Hidden in his eyes.
Death came so silently
A butterfly in a matchbox
yellow wings
Polka dotted with death’s imprints.

I felt the cold spell
Of its wings on my pinafore
In my first independent
Bus drive
I smelt the snakes
in the whiff of toddy
bloodshot eyes tearing
my chestless
childhood apart.
The feel of wet twists on my
Squirming thigh
The squirt of venom
That spread over me
Like chill
Like death
Tears gagged
my scream,
guilt stifled protests.
My childhood died
like butterflies
ephemeral joys
I knew I was gifted
For I could smell snake
And impending deaths….


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