|Wooden Dolphin (standard:poetry, 193 words)|
|Author: Cyrano||Added: Jul 27 2007||Views/Reads: 1813/0||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|A reverie of times gone by|
Wooden Dolphin Laying on my bed, hearing kids shouting as far away as Malmesbury Close, I lived in a secret world under an asbestos ceiling on Fore Street. At fifteen I'd heard every worn out idea about education's advantages, preferring the lessons learned from billboards, staring up at the Marlboro cowboy. I fell headlong into hallucinations, riding to school under a hollow sky. Monday I was Lancelot, Wednesday the Lone Ranger and Sunday King Arthur fighting a religious war against the Chippenham Road gang. The summer sun came down so long ago. I rode my dreams as far as any child could ride, coming home to find my mother hanging out the washing, unaware I'd ridden off to war that day. To whom could I explain my magical sophistries? I was my own fabulous opera, suffering the brilliant argument of madness, locked up by those who confessed love and sleeping in the whirlwinds of a child's misunderstandings, with nothing but tears for ink. Did no-one else have several other lives? In the end I was damned by the rainbow, a wooden dolphin, muddied by affection and beached by death on a winter shoreline. Tweet
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