Glass breaks around my family
There’s that time I chased my brother down the street
And he ran inside and slammed the door
And my outstretched hands
went straight through the panes
The time mum slipped on the back yard in the rain
And somehow there was glass there
She sat on the stairs, wrist dripping onto the lino
giving me a phobia of blood
And of course she is static
Every touch is an oh-for-fuck’s-sake
Every computer blows up when she plugs it in
And the glasses she paints
Sit still in the cupboards of relatives
Waiting quietly in case we notice them


One thought on “#97

  1. Exactly the same thing happened with me and my brother. He slammed the door, and, probably through shock, I remember seeing my hands go through the window and the glass falling out in slow motion and black and white.

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