Sucker
Let’s buy a house – a big one –
big enough to hold
old resentments and future fights.
Let’s get an old one,
one in the country,
the kind that has a lock on each door
and a bomb shelter in the garden
(so there’s somewhere to run
when it all blows up).
I want one with huge windows;
the kind that catch people as they pass
and ghost their bodies.
The kind that kill birds dead.
You could pick up their paper mache bodies
and throw them in the bin
like a chicken carcass,
then we would shake our heads
at how stupid they are
for letting such bloom sucker them in.
Karley Denniston was born in Newcastle Upon Tyne, but now lives in West Yorkshire where she works, studies and raises her two children. She is an occasional writer and has had work published by webzines Ink, Sweat and Tears and Snakeskin.