When do we tell them about the apple-tree witch?
The ghosts in the upstairs lav
saw the light-bulb as a cousin
so stayed all year round.
Nan didn’t mind; it was cool
in summer and in winter it
saved on buying a freezer.
Uncle Billy didn’t. ‘If they look
who cares. With my arse
I should be so lucky’.
Besides, they’d left home,
not like those in the garden
lav with its newspaper squares.
Those ghosts made the dark
into fingers that pulled hair
and broke knicker elastic.
At Christmas, holiday
relatives never believed us
until after the Queen’s speech.
John Alwyine-Mosley learned to read from Andrew Lang’s Fairy books and ever since he can remember he has known that SF was myths and folklore in technology fancy dress. He is currently working towards his first collection which will be eclectic as the world is too big just to be sad or funny.
[…] Published in three drops from a cauldron […]
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