Tag : prose poem

12 Dec 2017

A CROWD GATHERED. They identified with the rat. If they were rats, that’s where they’d be, among the donuts: jelly and sprinkles and low fat double glazed. They had their phones out now, tapping their screens for focus and exposure. Record. Stop. Share.

WRITING

12 Dec 2017

SCAN THE EYES of the audience, see where they look when there’s death on the screen. They look at the corpse. They look at the corpse even though they know the corpse is a fake. They look at the eyes and the chest, for a twitch or a heave, for a goof or a happy ending.

WRITING