Trap
Pardon me ringing you
but all my friends are dead.
It’s strange to be sitting here
in the place where I was born
and no longer know a soul.
They were sand through glass
you see. Now I’m like an invalid
who struggles unheard,
consigned to oblivion, yelling
in silence, exiled on the spot
and every new day I cease
to exist again.
John Short is a writer and musician from Liverpool. He studied comparative religion at Leeds university and creative writing at Liverpool university then spent some years in Europe. Most recently published in Prole, Dream Catcher and Black Market Review.