| ROAD TO NOWHERE Front seat. By myself. Swoosh - the doors closed. Looking in. Thinking in. Talking in. Locked in. Closed in. Trapped in. Gangajang - jangajang. Wheels aturning Following the moon across the sky the bus penetrates the dark Up and up to the cool mountain top Oh, why did I say I love you and then go and sleep with him? - Then it crashes off a bridge no noo No NO NOO! falls headlong into the arms of an abyss Tumbling. Crashing. Waiting for death - I feel the threads of life unravelling Then jolting into my seat We roll on down the mountains and into the warm daylight (Did I really say I love you - then go and sleep with him?) The streets here are paved with paper Running, silent, angry, grim-faced people four-wheel driving from pasta to pizza - to latte I am drawn like a moth to bright red lights am penetrated by many strange dark knights I send myself back to the scene of the crime My father, brother, mother, sister hit me But you, my friend will not touch me Though I put in your hands the knife and gun You leave me alone and alive forever and forevermore I will feel the pain Searched inside me and found nothing within -(I did love you, just accidentally slept with him)- I found me a doctor who would give me methadone am impaled and burnt like a moth to a flame On the road to nowhere I have taken a wrong turn I feel the fibres of my life fraying thin You find me but I am nothing I did love you - a skeleton on a frame I scream and cry while you whisper my name Oh, why did I say I love you then go and sleep with him ©Diane Andrews 2007 |
| FIVE-ACT PLAY WOMAN Her life goes from blood to blood to the afterbirth and the child born dead from the first prick of love MAN Who are you, standing there? all sweat and dirt and work altering the way of the world with metal arms and rippling back and dirt under your fingernails CHILD Shiny bright clear windows wide not yet having stains on your soul still too close to your last death pinned like a squealing pig to a bed SKY Rangi has been known to walk the Earth penetrating deep into fertile firths leaving behind his flowing liquids caressing the highest tors and peaks FROGS Croak ©Diane Andrews 2007 |