eman (emanne) wrote in absurdword,

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damp room
the trainee with
the radiant smile and
the restrictive ignorance
of eager youth. (the dollhouse
could have been mine.)
the museum steps,
my own small feet
the trains behind
glass containers;
press the button,
a large chinese spider
displayed, motion-
less, poignant in
hopeless lacklustre.
knife-cuts in ears
ready sunsets behind
the moving chains,
profanity of an angry
european teen.
meaningless retorts
we were ignorant
we were children
then. a cover of night
pass by the pub and
a stranger with a bottle
tapping on the windshield--
base violence.
saucer eyes and
looking back, he
follows drunken.
eggs and cards;
a handmade mummy
precious gems.
a spit of racial hate
from the gray-head's
grownup lips on
a brown child's face
(she was six, she was
six,) what is race,
what is hate?
the grace of the
violin in a young boy's
hands. he repeats:
tutor me! a kiss on my
cheek. the line of feet
perhaps nine or ten,
in the cold open:
smug grins, crossed arms
vicky shrugs; she'd always
been polite.
a grinning whisper,
a fast resentful slur,
that 80's class
of handicraft. the niceties
of doll-making. candy-
giving without demands.
trolls with
colorful hair. chocolate
balls in white-paper bags.
lollipop sticks, new
trends, more reprimands.
spiraling stone stairs
a used church
false police calls
steep iron rungs
an adventure gone
fourth grade
ends and the plane
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