Sheena Blackhall

Gold Star - 6,611 Points (18/8/1947 / Aberdeen)

And The Washing Still Out Drying - Poem by Sheena Blackhall

the day got up with a hang-over
birds played hide and seek
with a boy's flung stones

behind a window, a pentagram's scrawled on a wall
in red but it's saying nothing

Saturday's whores grow ripe with sweat and sin
On the cobbles at gap-toothed windows

a mongrel scratches its balls
whines for a wished-for bone

from under the pub door cigarette smoke seeps out
the smell of whisky and spit flows over the evening

Jeannie Froubister didn't throw herself off a bridge
or swallow a bottle of bleach

she met a murderer in an Edinburgh street
such a nice man too, with perfect hands and manners

and salaried, you can't trust anybody
strangled, and the washing still out drying

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Poem Submitted: Monday, August 27, 2012

Poem Edited: Tuesday, August 28, 2012

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