Not Now

Two and a half hours, I’ve had to wait.
Two and a half hours, I’ve
been standing
at this bus stop

See this hand here,
my hand.
See the hole here, in the
A knife hole.
Last night.

Last night I stopped
a fight.
Grabbed the knife. See,
the hole,
the blood,
And now,

I’m stuck here – on the bus. The slow bus, the late bus –
waiting. Late. Good thing there’s no-one late for their court case. Good thing. But I,
was going.
Was going to go. To go to the hospital. Not time now, though. Not going. Not now. See
this injury, this

This hole, my voice, my life. Needs
help. But I’m not
Not now.

Not now.
Not now, because you’re not. That man’s not. That woman’s not. That child’s not. No-one.
No-one’s listening to me

See this. This corkscrew. Metal on metal. Snapping.
See this. This knife. Four inches. Metal on metal. Metal on fabric. Slashed seats. Noise. Like drums.
Look. Listen. Look.
Listen to me.

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, May 2017

Published by The Silly-Savvy Salopian

Freelance writer and descendant of the cave dweller and outlaw, Humphrey Kynaston. Banished from Shropshire for my eccentricity, I have made my home in Suffolk. I write poetry, short stories, travel journals, comedy gig reviews and non-fiction articles. My wish is to write my way back into the heart of my birth land. All writing commissions (and free holidays in Shropshire!) considered.

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