Sunday, March 27, 2011
Hilda Sheehan
Henry and Susie are Missing
1
Susie. This is the bed speaking, a wanted moon blew broken kiss words mostly blink-spelt.
Soon an open window throws cold on the speaking bed: brake last night spoke who is missing? Manic-squashed sheets fly east and miss-speak.
Groan the spring and sponge down the on and ins of falling. Henry! Not your bed, not your duvet spill and dry the change back. Susie is coming, she is coming and nearly, nearly came.
Tuesday the bed is a yellow duck fed from Henry's childhood. It gulps hate shut, all feet sink south. Wednesday cannot happen until Thursday gives overview messages. Thursday, Thursday come in: you are all words and covers of Sunday Observer.
Henry and Susie are missing. Love shakes the sheets for evidence of guilt, kiss, embrace, lust and disappointed crumpled doing crumpled searches finds a shoe. Blow shoe, seek shoe, Henry and Susie are missing!
When found darlings cope better. A cluster bomb drops sheet mess and sweet nothing surprises them asleep. Henry and Susie like aliens on a hill look bright ships away. Their mothers call in soup to throw the home made kitchen guilt. Did Susie? Did Henry?
Unmarried guilt fuck. What for tea is scovel and fruit to be like. Not pip in the tunnel who knows the deepness of crawling back in naked spokens. All customers meet the counter: hello the door in, the door shut for next week to cook a missing couple on gas.
The missing mess is nothing. Compare a price tag lip sulk. The missing mess tidies up tights and weeps a chronicle letter that love is about: weddings loom a shirt tale, a great big dress of white nasty.
Henry, Susie did you know the word found you under here? Describe for me the hidden danger of clean worktops and Hoover smooth coping. What did your love go missing? Did your love find out in a word?
2
Henry: I want to take you missing in that dress. I want your slippers last night.
Susie: My slippers have no voice, never want the voiceless, here the bed speaks moon kiss. Want the bed!
Henry: I want to be missing longer.
Susie: Do not go missing too long: guilt, kiss, embrace, lust and disappointed throw true love on the sheets.
Henry: Quietly, we have been missing, the neighbours think a postman murdered our mail for ink and rain junk.
Susie: My voiceless missing envelope stuffed through a next door hole. Glass bit the postman. All flesh is glass. Feel my see-through self, the rain on me, the junk on me smells a paper coming in.
Henry: Afterwards then, on Thursday, Thursday come in.
Susie: Wednesday is now. The sheets are missing us disgusted. We are home done out in pink-blue.
3
After the missing: the paper hole got bigger words on it. Michelle listened to the not said each night in case Henry and Susie escaped. She invited tea and cakes more often, she such a friend told the neighbours a safe thing or two about missing lovers. The such listened to the often. The often said more.
Everyone looked. Windows wide open a glare of don't dare. No one went missing. The cat guarded the door flap for humans coming home. The dog guarded the door flap for humans getting out.
Everyone was cooked overdone for safe living. Chickens never bled on plates loved their own juice cooked more this way. Henry missed being missing. Susie lost her voice. She hid her slippers from Henry and shushed her feet say nothing.
Feet blurted the whereabouts. Susie cried voiceless screams that only machines registered. This is an unfair world where men walk first, I must step out in my own fur naked animal vest, I must be missing and damp and scream a human loud.
Henry was here all day. The chair sat him straight. No Henry. No Henry. Not that football result. Wait, think how the voiceless feel. Tight shut your man!
How found was what? Love was in the biscuit tin. Kiss was in a kitchen cupboard. Guilt was under something under something else. Embrace was nowhere. Embrace they thought was dead behind the fridge but nothing looked straight. Lust laid out its whole body on a rug and waited for more. Henry definitely found disappointed.
Susie sneaked out missing. The cat was worst after letting her back in to unmiss the night she left behind. What if I came back really, never to be missing? My slippers shout a heart burst in a vanish. Who is Susie? Did you know a more missing story?
Subscribe to Posts [Atom]