Someone came running.
Said come and see.
They smiled strangely
as we took a shortcut
through the hedges, to the roadway.
There, a black cat that was mostly flat.
Crushed and cooking in the concrete heat.
One eye staring up, askew.
The other, a popped grape.
Introduction to prurience.
Smile no more.
Someone caught a snake.
A long sinewy garter.
Put a big red firecracker down its throat.
Then hung it from a thorny tree.
For all to see.
Attraction, and repulsion.
Playing house in a backyard tent
with someone they called “the dirty girl”.
Now, let’s play Doctor. She said.
You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.
Naïve confusion and uncertainty.
Someone laying by a bush on Mount Royal.
We were up there with our bows and arrows.
This person was a strange colour,
and had a crusty red hole in the side of their head.
Momma, Momma, Momma!
We ran. Changed forever.
We were stopped at a gas station,
when we heard the sirens, coming from our left.
The loudspeakers blaring CLEAR THE INTERSECTION.
Straight ahead of us, a car speeding towards the same point,
with thumping music. Oblivious.
They hit hard, and spun.
Bloody faces punched through windshields.
Horror and helplessness.
Lee Dunn has been writing since the age of 18, but found that work got in the way for the ensuing 48 years. In his home town of Toronto, Ontario, Canada, he reveled in his independence at an early age, and spent as much time as he could exploring the city’s Arts scene. He was introduced to poetry and prose by the works of two literary giants, namely J.R.R. Tolkien and J.W. Lennon and thence fell in love with the written word. His work includes poetry, short fiction, and personal essays, and ranges in theme from the surreal to the horrific, nostalgic, and themes on the human condition. He has been published on Spillwords.com, The Dark Poets Club, Journal of Undiscovered Poets, Crepe & Penn Literary magazine, and the Shelburne Free Press.