Written by Jacob Horrocks
Art by Nikki Sztolc
It is an ugly way to share a street
As the perpetual sun he ordered
Leaves the golden light roasting on her seat—
To move would make her life seem disordered.
They should make their ministry of such men
Who bargain their sweetness for a greatness
And abandon their boys when they are men,
Then blame their absence on there being lateness.
For she loved to crash cars where it would show
And part her hair down the middle with blood,
Which exiled her cheeks from the whole rainbow—
She is left with tans and soft-whites that bud
Along the cottage lane where she will stay
In a car crash fixed to a lighted post,
Installed right by the end to their driveway—
Its colour reflects how she burnt his toast.
John had mashed her face for striking his back,
Keeping their routine to destroy her day,
And would leave some sweetness in their racetrack
By dying, slowly, somewhere on his way.
Elizabeth Martha Brown was married
Twice but it never would stick, and therefore
She was hanged last for being so unmarried,
Her John being axed forty-five days before—
And to undermine her hooded domain,
Martha sees an engine powered machine
That bounces along a nice country lane
That if she could, she would crash on routine.
You might also like
More from Edition 40
30 years. 30 Degrees. 30 students. 30 accomplishments. It’s countdown time... We are hitting our midway point with our massive 30th Anniversary …