John woke with a gasp- there was noise from below
Movement. Footsteps. A muffled voice whispered “Go.”
Fear infected his brain and chilled in his bone.
Intruders downstairs. In his home.
His sleepy wife yawned. “Shh!” snapped John.
He sat up in bed and flipped the light on.
“Call 911” he quietly said, handed her his cell phone
Slid out of bed.
She nervously dialed as he crept to the door
Being careful his feet didn’t creak on the floor
“Hello…there’s someone in our house…” John heard his wife say
And as she whispered the details he started to pray.
Because now there were footsteps climbing the stairs
The tension was palpable- he could literally feel his neck hairs
standing on end, how would he defend?
Sweat beads his brow, footsteps continue to ascend.
John scanned the room for a weapon or barricade- anything that could help keep them safe.
Just pillows and blankets, in the closet clothes and shoes.
Nothing hard, nothing heavy- not a goddamn thing he could use.
“Hurry,” his wife pleaded. John’s stomach felt sick.
And then…BANG! He felt the door being kicked.
John braced against the door, his heart whacked his ribcage
His wife started screaming, the door shook with rage
BANG! BANG! Another two jolts
The doorframe splintered, unhinged from the bolts.
John’s braced against the door, his wife cried with despair
His wedged bare foot was bleeding, he was barely aware
He had no idea who was on the other side.
He just knew he couldn’t let them in no matter how hard they tried.
BANG! BANG! BANG! John pushed with his might
The whole door was shaking. He screamed “Turn off the light!”
His wife lunged for the light obeying his command
John pushed the door harder with trembling hands
The room plunged into darkness, John lip’s turning blue
The door shattered inwards, the first intruder burst through
John thrown to the wall, he recovered and jumped
Crashing into the intruder, to the floor they both thumped.
John scratched for the face, he heard screams from his wife
In the pale moonlight John glimpsed the glint of a knife.
He went for the blade, the second man barreled in
John wrestled loose the knife but was suddenly kicked in the chin
His head snapped back, he flopped on the floor
But managed to keep the knife, and then with a roar
He dove for the first man, on the floor, near
And drove the knife deep into his ear
The man shrieked in horror -a shrill banshee cry
John yanked free the blade and slashed for the eye
He could feel the blood spurting warm and wet on his hand
“Get out of my house!” his wife screamed the command
John snapped awake. The room was bright.
The rumpled sheets were wet but no intruders in sight.
Just his wife with a broom chasing down…a mouse?
“Get out!” She yelled swatting. “Get out of my house!”
The mouse turned and scurried and John scratched his head.
Relieved yet still shaken he climbed out of bed.
Take the slate
Wipe out memories
Don’t erase those
preserve them in
artefacts of history
dry memories to be
in leather cases of
have you tried
the anecdotal ?
prisms of happiness
and bring your grovelling
minds, to trance
from the old volcano
its parliament houses, low and high,
with their respective garden settings
a great arrow pointed south
under the cold constellations
following the emperor’s gaze,
as the penguins mass on hell-deep ice,
shuffling their eggs
between cold, starry claws —
my long-adopted, foggy town,
all land values, new trams and bush highways,
shifting under the blanket.