The Whatsit, Evermore
Time stands still; the bullet hangs in the air
Hair-loss suspended
Like a ballerina thrilling @ the chase
All abruptly ended
A wisp of smoke; the fan circles lazily
Autographs intended
To compress the performance onto paper
(How very splendid!)
A plume of flame; the scent of rotting flesh
With foul gases distended
Buckled hands and broken dial
Was that intended?
A flash of light; the curtain hides the door
The cast is offended
How shall our interrupted speech
With verse be blended?
| Contributors: | TG, Roland, The Agent Apsley, Elizabeth, Grayman, Dave the DJ, KT, P. |
| Poem finished: | 14th January 2000. |