One of the exercises based around memories prompted this.
I remember mercury puddles on the mezzanine, mirrored, like water with attitude, that ran down a slope faster than a raindrop, splitting into hundreds of molten ball bearings that left a smear on the metal plates.
I've been revising this poem. You can read the first draft here.
it was one of those days
an i'm living in a novel type of day
that brought the realisation
he was a minor character
whose only function
was to be bumped off
by a more interesting protagonist
an act that would illuminate
a particular facet of his killer's personality
such days are not good
his head rests on the cold window pane
it is 4:13am not yet light
he will wander through today's chapter
carrying a sharp sliver of sleeplessnessEssentially I've changed the layout, I was not happy with the one long line. I think this version allows the poem to breathe and it is easier on the eye of the reader.
Tomorrow sees the launch of Palooka 5's first ep. I leave you with them playing La Mancha. They have to be one of the best live bands around at the minute.