THE SNAP
Curious yellow eyes watched,
in the twilight
from corner concealed
in shadow
tail flicking
as woman paced
vinyl kitchen floor
she talked but only
to herself
bowl of decaying fruit
saccharine odour filled the air
neither minded
it masked the smell of man
sat slumped at dinner table
face black and bloated
tongue lolling covered white
dead milky eyes wondering when
the snap occurred
she began dicing veg
noticing not kitchen blade
sliced finger tip
off
cackling in the night
Cat purred wondering when
the snap occurred.
James reads "The Snap":
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James confesses: "I was trying to right a dark valentines poem and I noticed my cat watching me type away. I wondered how many pets had witnessed what was going on behind closed doors. I was also watching something on tv, where there was a drunken step father or abusive father and I wondered what would happen if the mother/wife snapped."
JAMES LILLEY, 34, father of three. Working in the day as an engineer and studying Creative Writing part time. By night a Bare knuckle boxer and poet. Work previously published in various zines and poetry book The Blue Hour published by Close To The Bone due in 2022.
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