Louise Wakeling, ‘Condy’s Crystals’


Condy’s crystals

wreathed in smiles like a saint’s halo   toothy   ingenuous   she’s crystalled
with snowflakes in a European frost   but this Little Black Riding Hood’s
butchered the wolf   snuggled into his skin right up to the eye-sockets.  
Monty Python on Broadway   then trawling for shoes in Manhattan
in the aftermath of Katrina,  some woman shouting   “How DARE
you go shopping when people are dying down there!”

it’s scientifically proven that strappy stilettos   seven-bright-starred-shoes
lend a snappy elevation to pint-sized bureaucrats.   all the better to
make pronouncements from on high   beats mimicking Oprah in the

Superdome   wading in shit   or official tours of the Lower Ninth Ward  
debris waiting to burn   blue plastic tarps
flapping on thousands of roofs like discredited flags    

‘black site’ prisons in civilized Europe are a lot easier   a topical solution
for hardening skin   that shy grin   the whole act an extraordinary
rendition   coercive interrogation in finely-tuned eyebrows   torture by
proxy in pursed red lips   unmarked white jets flying no flag in the shyest
of smiles   and hobbled men spitting blood

from  Paragliding in a War Zone   by Louise Wakeling





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