Future ~ Bob Kesh

That’s some strong shit, I thought

as my lungs pulled

like a vice removed from my throat,

I sat there dazed and lethargic

wondering if I could ever escape,

staring as a baby cried

and her father watched T.V.

Holding her with one hand so

she didn’t roll over like a potato,

smoke weighted on my bones

like indecision.

If I wasn’t so crippled

I would hold her like my future,

rested against my chest,

hoping she would grow.

bobkesh

A writer and musician from London currently studying at the Faber Academy. Generally nocturnal, he can be found indulging in all the pleasures and pains of the night.

Contact him at bobkesh @ hotmail . co .uk (with no spaces)

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