Friday 30 November 2012

#57 - I Sleep Well

Drugged on cough mixture, fatigue
and a white hot belief
that good things come to those who wait,
Morgan slept through bomb drop.

Yes, yes, houses blown to matchwood,
dogs whistling off towards the horizon
their leashes fluttering behind them,
etc, etc - you know the song.

When he awoke, his moustache was missing;
everything smelt of licorice, and
the sky above the port was the colour of television,
tuned to Ghostbusters II.

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