Scrunch

Scrunch

Disgust. Scrunch. Wrinkle.

A mistake, a mere typo, a masterpiece, rejected by its author, scrunched up tight and thrown at

Unwashed hair, with frizzy ends and greasy roots, scrunched up into a top-knot to

A scrunched up nose, wrinkled, its wearer`s disgust disguised by

And all of it with no need for any of it with

nothing and nobody to hide from

in this unseen

cell.

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, November 2020

Image by ivabalk from Pixabay

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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