HISTORY HORRIFIES

HISTORY HORRIFIES
There he sits,
unslept,
like a rag doll,
in his grandfather’s tattered armchair
he recalls
the long haired ones,
flying across the sinful dust every night,
hyenas in their sex wagons,
performing the cruelest tricks,
putting those desires into him,
leaving him naked on the moonlit railway tracks at 5am
who became illiterate millionaire rock stars
in their mansions.
Hiring their fathers as butlers.
Whipping them
when they spilt the drinks tray;
keeping their mothers in the scullery
There he lives forever,
in that deserted railway station,
where the screeching never stops
and the carriages never leave
And now,
considering the lateness of the hour,
he thinks of his family,
rising from their beds at dawn,
and voraciously grinds his teeth to dust





Malcolm Hill 2003