Number Five: Northside

 

Ink and watercolour.

Ink and watercolour.

Your Northside

tattoo tells me nothing about you.

So I insert the knife and cut

along the circumference. The

blood and tissue tell me

little. 9 Lives tells

me even less. I apply

a hot iron to the words and

the blisters speak silence.

I trip you into the street and

you aren’t fast enough. Your

palms reach the curb

but cannot find the resolve to bear

weight. You look at me and

the 140 bus grinds

you into the concrete.

Now,

even with your

Frontal Lobe displayed before me

I know nothing

about you.

Ink and watercolour.

Ink and watercolour.

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This entry was published on Tuesday, August 12, 2014 at 9:17 pm. It’s filed under Artwork, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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