Sunday, April 11, 2010

NaPoWriMo 2010: 11 April

Competitive Plucking

My goose hisses as I walk the length
of the identity parade. The bespoke
suits of potential criminals crease
as each identikit man reaches in turn
to pet the witness; it eyes their ties
- colour coded gang tags - and rattles
its tongue in its beak as they tweak
at its tail. For this is the choice:
the spiv who plucks most feathers
with the least noise shall win
my harlot head on their pillow.

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