Twisted
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By maudsy
- 1410 reads
When I saw him trip and fall I stalled
Gawping at his efforts to raise himself, pissed,
Straddled between two happy hour bars,
Splayed across the gutter
Immobilizing the impotent traffic
A cacophony of flesh and chrome
Swerving around the human chicane
Bags and briefcases arcing away in aseptic orbits
Hoh masks, eyeless, prepared to
Deflect unpredictable aggression
I tried to honour them but my craven eyes,
Driven by inherent schadenfreude,
Sought him out
Earning their reward as he rose, Lazarus-like,
Grappling with gravity and headed my way
Instantly, then, the portcullis withdrew
Within my walled-city mind
And that ungainly gait
Perverse, yet true,
That guides him back to safety
Obliterated those didactic codes
I ran toward him, a parody of humanity
Desperate for the anesthesia of forgiveness
“Are you hurt? Can I help you across the road?” I begged.
“It’s okay” he said, absolving me. “My legs are twisted”
“Only your legs” I replied
“How lucky”
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Comments
Wow, fantastic. This one
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