Travelers Welcome

Travelers Welcome

Thursday, January 19, 2012

The Postman’s New Mouth

by Robert Ridley-Shackleton

A chain to hold
The square together
To stop me falling out of myself.
The sun is beaming to the spine,
I watch in envy as I sit
Among an air of silver axes,
Only a postman for company.
He looks at me from down in his world
Even though were light years apart.
The axes hurt him to much
That he tells me to lift his arm.
I do so but it only makes things worse.
His stomach splits in half
And through the split,
Razor sharp teeth snarl,
His nipples become eyes
And he loses his mail.
I do what any bone would do,
I cuddle him
And send him off to sleep.

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