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worse than poetry

an offcut from the StoryKettle.com

Copyright © 2010, Michael M Wayman
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You play with an ogre who is not there.
He was never so large.
He mended your cloths.
He was never so certain.
He is still there.


He wanted to know.
He took it off.
How many years?
He wanted to know.
He put it back on.


I sit here.
I know that I am crazy.
So it is.
The neighbours know that.
That I am crazy.
No one can change this.
I sit here.


The baby screams.
Does it sound horrible?
Does it sound beautiful?
Is someone strangling the baby?
The baby screams.
Does it sound beautiful!
Is someone strangling the baby?
Oooooh! Twist that little neck!


rant and rave
what does it bring?
I am your lover.


You are not a man.
You are not a woman.
You are a hunter.


I went to the side snup that been
I've got crap in my alle Letzte.


Wind schlägt die Äste von den Bäumen.
Tote Eule auf dem Rasen.
Wolken in einer Autobahn.
Wintersturm so gefährlich.


Bei ihm läuft alles schlecht.
OG es rund, oder gerade aus oder links rechts, nee no nime.
Aus 'im wird nix.
Er schafft sowieso so nit.
Keine Chance.
Er war im Rausch.
Er war in süchtig auf Hustenmedikamenten.
...
Er läuft auf der Straße, ein LKW hat ihn erwischt, er war tot.



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