Fat lady's arias



27/9/16 Two poems about when something is gone but not. An unsung aria/Hollow

An unsung aria


The twist in the tail.

The left hook from out of darkness.

The Hofmeister kink.

You know it ain't over

'til the fat lady sings.

Well there she is,

sitting on her ample arse,

desperately trying to catch her breath.

She never was much of a runner,

and boy, can that wind of hers take flight..!







gnawing and


There is a place here inside me,

where you used to be.

It was warm and snug.

You used to curl up inside it

with your favourite stories of mine

and linger for hours.

You'd form a ball,

so small were you

that I barely noticed you there.

You took so little space,

it was as if you were part of me.

And now...

you are gone.

It's kinda cold






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