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Blood Sport

 

Blood Sport

 

Well it was a lovely who? I knew her too. We played scrabble & kept things narrow – talking a blood sport in this age of Aquarius. Why didn’t you raise it with her? you ask. Well I said it was a lovely who. Implications of not wanting to spoil the cup of tea & pretty company. Ah escapism, our religious observances in the affluent west. Then my father’s ghost as in Hamlet. Not speaking of his death. Just a reminder to get my end wet. Strange advice from an ex-priest, evidently he’d suffered enough fools. I said thanks dad & we parted on good terms. Hence I made small talk about who cares because my mind was on sex. One must be cynical in today’s politics. They string up idealists. My 8th life corpse is still hanging in the southern breeze.

 

 

Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.

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