Wednesday 3 April 2013

NaPoWriMo 1 - Our Flat

Our flat

When Paul moved in
I unpacked myself
First by droplets
Then whole organs
I'm surrounded by tubs of rotting food
And empty vodka bottles
It's time we did some dishes
Once we get the strength
I'd like to eject the rubbish from my flat
As the phlegm is ejected from my throat
I slither among my things like mucous
Collecting decay and slowing down
I've a copy of Bukowski
Everyone's too embarrassed to read
We've still not unpacked
There is no space
We never did anything there anyway
Our flat is packed with stolen goods
Of value totalling six pounds
Prime among them the Causewayend Code:
We keep our hands to ourselves
And never hurt with words.

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