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Yesterday When I Stopped
A response to ‘Shack’ by Murray Edmond
by the side of the road I thought of a word
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it's a rickety word placed amongst the snow coated tussocks that protrude like slices of carrot cake.
it's a cold word made hard and sharp and left half done
it's a lonely word that never saw Santas' surprises and giggling puree
it's a grey word ironed in shackles and made sick from the language thrown around in it
it's an unstable word creaking like demolition timber taking after Lear and Edmund
But it's a delicious word that maybe you should just hide in that open doorway at the back of your throat
— John Pain, Mountainview Highschool
