Thursday, 10 July 2008


I found his head first,
lurking in the waste box in wood shop,
Mr Cutout Gun,
lying in pieces in the scrap box,
blending in.

Grinning with satisfaction or grimacing with pain,
the pain of separation,
the just a little pain of parting....
from the barrel of a gun.

The body lay adjacent to the head
but on another level entirely,
all a sort of empty,
discharged and dischuffed.

The assassin assassinated,
the killer killed,
the Grim Reaper...

Of arms and legs there was no sign.
shuffled off, no doubt,
along with humanity, the grace of God
and all chance of redemption.

You can take the gun out of the man but you can’t take the man out of the gun.

wheels, for mobility, testify to loss,
Half man, half machine,
the cyborg rolls around in pain and disbelief.

Beware the cyborg, little man,
what rolls around in pain....
comes around again.

c. charles stuart 2008

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