Dead Air into Warm Harp
Steve Coel
Since I bust my legs down The Works
I's had to spend all my mornings
blowing dead air into warm harp
by the Central Library.
Bust my heart too, truth be known.
Lost everything now I has.
Still; once I's got enough coin
I has a mild and Clark's pie
down The Vulcan.
And; often or not, I ends up
talking to the old girls
warming themselves up,
before they goes and shelters
under the bridge by The Glastonbury.
Clink Hotel across the road
gets noisy in the afternoon
so I wanders back into town
for a bit of a stretch and goes
cadge a cup of tea from Astey's
before heading back down Bute
to the Sally for warm meal
and early bunk.
Doesn't have time to feel sad really.
Not me.
Trick I finds, is to forget past
and just stick to what I knows.
Need change of shoes mind.
Guess I'll find some in box
by side door in the morning.
#documentaryfictionphotography2020
Low Congregation
Steve Coel
This Micro Flash Fiction was previously published by
An 11.59 Publication.
The story itself is universal really.
Individuals all around us, are either coping
with forced change or being destroyed by it.
Steve Coel
An 11.59 Publication
