HEG George

Sleeping In The Rain - Poem by HEG George

Every step forward brings an
energised momentum. Leading
me toward a portal which leads
me to the Styx ferryman

I am confronted with this resoundingly
unique shape, the emblem of its industry.
His coffin puts out its tentacle seeking my

Past aisles filled with 'fag-ash' Lils and lipstick
smothered whore's, I walk inexorably
on. Past the row of walking stick,
benefits claiming, blue badge carrying,

And those 'mutter-under-the-Breath' blue
veined brigade, always ready to Judge the
dress you've chosen for such a solemn occasion.
Well, today I didn't let them down!

When I get there, what I see is a pseudo-realistic
pantomime. A Frieze of alibaster-marbeled
features, a mask of barely recognisable
'What used to be'

I'm confused. Am I supposed to love
this empty form of you? Should I kiss
your brow? And taste the loss of you
on my lips.

Or enter into a pact of believing that
you lie there, waiting to kiss me back.
What I want is to be guaranteed this
will never happen to me again.

I want to be able to give my love to
someone and not have it thrown back
when their 'use by date' has expired

I want the time, before time stopped,
to start again. I want the muscles in my
neck to become unknotted and my wine
bill to become averagely normal again.

Oh, and I want his wife to know I
was the other woman

Topic(s) of this poem: funeral

Form: Free Verse

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, November 17, 2015

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