Friday 22 November 2013

#23 - A Somnabulant Child

Little Geoffrey strolled into the secret meeting
before the dogmen could pull their masks back on.
'Kill him,' barked the delegate known only as Rex,
his face a palsy of sagging latex.

And if the doorhound drew his service revolver
with a little slowly, who could blame him?
Geoffrey was a sickly child with hollow cheeks,
wheezing inside Rupert the Bear pyjamas.

The exit wound was wide as a Winalot tin.
Geoffrey woke, standing in the kennels
amongst yowling pedigrees,
urinating on a miniature schnauzer.

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