FRIDAY FEELINGS

  

  

REFLECTIONS ON A PROMENADE

in the ashen light

of an autumn dawn

the women appear

wearing bonnets and

beehive skirts

hatted men

in knee-length coats and

doeskin pantaloons

strolling

to the rhythm

of the squeaky wheels of a

hooded perambulator

boys in sailor outfits

playing hoop-and-stick and

aproned girls in straw hats with

blue and poppy-red ribbons

swaying to the tick-tock beat

and melancholy strain

of a distant barrel-organ

as the bloodsoaked story

of a hundred years hence

screams past like a bullet-train

the powdered bones of millions

in its wake

in the x-ray light

of an autumn noon

the skeletons appear

wearing earphones

headphones

fitness trackers and

smartwatch combos

thighbones shinbones footbones

strolling

buggies with hollow-eyed

babies

a column of moving bones

sliced through

like a radio dial

by a skeleton jogger

past multilingual
inchoate

bits of

words and 
phrases

teeth and mandibles

clattering 
chattering

strolling
striding

armbones out
imploring

into the white noise of

disintegration

crying out
crying
out

it's not our fault

it's not our fault

all the 
skeletons 
of the 
world

crushed

by the blow of 
earth's avenging angel or

pulverised 
in mushroom clouds

as the bloodsoaked story

of a hundred years hence

screams past like a bullet-train

the powdered bones of billions

in its wake