Knife Crime

I didn’t hear the helicopter in the night
my wife did
and she heard voices
I was late coming downstairs
in my speckled maroon pyjamas
from an M & S outlet
still too big
even though the hormones
have made me put on a stone
she was stirring her porridge
I let the dogs out into the garden
they didn’t come back
they must have got out
I checked the front gate                              
it was open
the police left it open
at 1.30 in the morning
looking for someone or a knife
I was like a villain
trying to run after the dogs in my speckled maroon pyjamas
cradling my heart
hoping not to die
before I found them
crossing the road at the traffic lights




© Nemo 2020
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critique and comments welcome.
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7 months ago

Sometimes we find ourselves caught up in something bigger than our own little slice of heaven and often, it’s frightening. I think it happens like your poem unfolds, us seeing everything in sort of slow motion. Well done on conveying it.


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