Lee Kirk

Bad Pill

Rose poured
from her friends’ nose
as he pulled his fist back.

Near midnight,
halfway up Sauchiehall Street.
Under a neon casino sign,
he came towards us.

My screams were louder
than his shirt,
more feminine than
the girl hiding behind my back.

I used her handbag
like a shield,
defending us both.

The windmill for insignia
kicked in,
making my jaw sloppy,
my eyes rolling backwards.
Feeling sunburnt under
tungsten lights,
I felt something,
stir from my belly.

As he got closer,
you could see the coke
around his noseholes,
flaring like a mad dog.

Throwing a punch,
clipping my left ear.
I was about to strike back but
Instead I was sick, sick, SiCK!

Projectile, steaming hot,
all over his chest,
looking like an SVQ level 1 art
abstract island.

He stopped
as sirens got closer.

Looking down
at his shirt,
then back up at us.
Then he ran away!

She thanked me for saving her.
My breath pumping harder
than any muscle in my body.

I said
you’re welcome.
She said
her name was Lisa.

Two fire engines zoomed past.
I asked Lisa for her number.

‘Naw, you’re alright’.

So I walked away in slight defeat,
towards the smoke of where
the fire engines went.

The art school was on fire.
The universe can protect you
In the strangest of ways
sometimes.

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