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What would it be like?

 

What would it be like?

 

What would it be like?

He wondered when she set out

On their voyage

We will be the subject

Salt tablets in the desert

The windmill drew up

Some water

Maybe there is an ocean

Rats gathering on a ghostly ship

& the crowd held aloft

Their lighters

For the slow song

About hope

Against all odds

The colours were synthetic

Designed on a computer

AI generated

A foot

Came down upon it

& danced the Tarantula

She was dressed in blood rose

& black

His memory came back

Of the lessons

As the knee

To split the pack

A life

Apart from the crowd

It got cold at night

Poem without direction

He woke with a pounding erection

She was far away

But heard the vibrations

One day perhaps

They’d be together again

& he’d kiss her shoulder 

& she’d kiss his

 

 

Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

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