Brendan Chase

1

 

 

when i was younger

in junior school

Mr Morris read us

Brendan Chase out loud

in hush of room

to class of kids,

and i’d lay with dreaming

flesh pressed tight to desk

as words hung on space like

stars,

and i’d

sail on wooden raft

along wet river

between bog and glen

beneath

them  

 

 

2

 

 

the deliberate swoosh

and violent sting

from mother’s palm

burnt inside

pain-filled-cheek

of rosy face,

when my dumb mouth lied

about

why

i ran away from home

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[...]

. oh, what a moving piece, monsieur ...
. beautifully written ...