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Driven Away


Rusty Broadspear

Performing solo, frozen out,

Audience eagerly clamber seats

For a close up view of other acts.

Talons tear, seats are slashed.

A thousand devil eyes

Shine red on five hundred beaks,

Jerking frantically left and right,

Gouging into the backs of heads.

Frenetic, hysteric, spectral screeches,

Thicken an overloaded atmosphere,

Threatening, deafening………….

Ignored, invisible

The solo performance continues.

He clutches his chest

And stares towards the gods.

A lone beaky brownie holds aloft

A smoky glass receptacle,

Old victoriana.

It leans over the balustrade

Waving the vessel side to side,

It has his attention.

A brownie audience of one.

Within the container

Rhythmically, metrically

Slapping the glass,

Is his sore, raw beating heart.

His face paint cracks,

He falls to one knee

As if a finale,

Which indeed it is.

Beaky flies down to him

Thrusts the vase in his face

With unquestionable anger.

Should he take it?

Amidst the surrounding bedlam

He takes it.

Beaky Brownie steps back

Nodding with evil glee.

His head bows to exit.

The duvet was crumpled

Into a misshapen plateau,

Full of dark caves and crevices.

He and his broken heart

Lay on the floor

Until he was found

And driven away.

Driven away

For the very last time.

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