Beleaguered bones
please carry me there
Flattened feet
walk on
Before an age of telephones
while life is unfair
a vicious sweet
a blessed carrion
you read
you eat
walk on
© Kait King, 2015
Carrion
She is nothing like me
Gingerly I type the words, wondering if I may be the only person who thinks like this. god’s daughter is turning out to be more appalling than horrific, more repulsive than disgusting. I can feel her like black tar in my mind. She calls me to write her out – to layer her like a black wedding cake, all the details – the spiders, the webs, the cockroaches, the mould and dusty aura of her mind. The corners of her life are all in shadow, a shadow I have to be brave enough to step into and feel the darkness that is god’s daughter. She wants to be created but she doesn’t want me – I am nothing to her, just like everyone else.
And she is nothing like me…
Pass it forward:
Lest Someone Forgets
Why won’t you sing our song
We sing yours over here
Why don’t you whisper
our fallen’s names
Or don’t you really care
If blood alone had been spilt
Could you tell that blood apart
Or perhaps without the body
You could tell the difference
in their hearts
Why won’t you sing our Kiwi song
They fought as brothers in arms
They all fell in the same stinking hell
They deserve a name whispered
in the calm
For the fallen ANZAC soldiers of New Zealand, who’s song (national anthem) is not sung in Australia. We recognise and sing the Australian anthem for all of them when we celebrate ANZAC day over here. They were “brothers in arms” after all. C’mon Australia – do the right thing.
© Kait King, 2015
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