Microfiction to Microflix

(THE SCARF NED KELLY WORE AT GLENROWAN)

 

 

 

 

DIE LIKE A KELLY is the Microflix adaptation of my Microfiction,                                                               ON THE HOUR, published by Spineless Wonders online and in                                                                    their collection of prose poems and microfiction, OUT OF PLACE (2012).                                                      Here is the text… 

 on the hour

you’ll be on your way you’ll be walking down that corridor                                                                   putting one foot in front of the other   breathing in breathing out                                                        listening  your body what’s it saying your good body    blood and                                                        bone  raced horses   felled timber   hammered  nails   danced jigs                                                      dripped sweat   swam creeks  stamped   shivered    cursed    sang                                                                   held squalling babies as tenderly     as bleeding men your body                                                          that you’ll be walking into a room it’ll never  walk out of     how                                                                  can you do that    set one foot in front of the other up to the drop                                                                look   the drop   you’ll be  holding out your hands to be pinioned                                                   flexing your fingers    long strong sinewy fingers   always kept your                                                            nails clean  now  bending your neck for that rough collar like                                                                         you bent it for me to kiss goodbye  my fingers  stroking the soft hair                                                           at the nape  like they used to stroke the soft down where the bones                                                 hadn’t set  your fingers were chubby then kneading my breast as you                                                         latched on  kneading eyes shut bliss but open now    awake    wide                                                    awake under the hood  what do you see my son    what do  you say                                                              die like a kelly    die    like a kelly

Here is a viewing:

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1URNpA51xDYQroe9GmSjLNlH9Q8HF2Vqn/view?fbclid=IwAR01t_QYKzkoomfgnFfnlxkzmlwAkZfp8wj2pSPejZCHi9DXxDekEdXzfg0

CONTROL + CLICK

Words, words, words… to live and die for!

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