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
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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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