death

The King is Dead

Flung on the black earth, a crowntwisted, cauterised with flame.Just out of shot, the king’s bonescrumbled, powder.

Where have you been ?I’ve tried everything -email, Face Book, notespushed through the door. I tried a medium, a Ouija board.nothingsince that scrap of chip paperblown against the railings“All well. Arrived safe”scrawled on one corner.That’s no good to me.What’s Heaven like ?Are the angels lookers ?Who’s going to win the 2.15at Kempton ?And where’s thatContinue reading “On the other side”