Grinding teeth,

leak of heavy bass,

herded- for a nominal fee-

tubular chaos.


She watches intently 

from the armpit of her fellow commuter

as a disco bauble earring



tepidly enthusiastic

from the pristine pierced ear

of a Chelsea goddess.


Slow blink, inhale-

Temperance girl

dads words echo,

heavily accented with hiraeth vowles.


The breaks of the burrowing monster scream 

lights flicker

everyone looks up momentarily

resume positions.


35 years of temperance –

bought with her a double edged sword

of pain and joy,

a girl, a boy.


Temperance, the Nordic warrior

dreams of Valhalla and its snow clad tops.

She comes,

armed with a Dictaphone. 




7 responses to “Temperance

Put me out of my misery people!

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