|PHANTASTIC PHONETIC PHACTORY
The stormy sea
Hard rain falling on a wooden floor
White gulls screeching to the sea
Rough winds shake the cabin door
Like a bell. In the saloon
The table set for tea
Slides: clatter of cutlery,
The bells are shaking the stiff houses.
The music hits you from the hollow passage.
The priest's voice sounded
like a sharp knife
drawn along the chalice.
Right at the back entering
through the heavy wooden doors
a small boy, astonished by
the roaring atmosphere,
shouts with surprise.
A tiny machine complained bitterly
in the big factory.
The giant boss hurled a metal plate
against the machine.
At last he heard the home-time horn.
When the workers went home the birds
came in from the window
to sing to the machines.
The APPLE BOMB went off
The trees fell to the ground
Down go the houses
Out comes the squirting juice
Plump mucky hands grip a fat glass bottle
an orange sticky oval shape around his mouth
Water boils on the stove, a curtain of mist across the window
He sits at the table with his legs dangling down
A round metal clock ticking fast on the wall
and a red checked tablecloth with a china teapot in the middle.
Small fists knock at the hollow brown door.
The Mean Mum
I was angry.
Why didn't she give me the money?
She's mean. Look in the mirror.
My face is a mess.
Red eyes, cheeks red as tomatoes.
I hate her! I hate her! I hate her!
loud footsteps going
dirty floors damp wood
someone falls over in the celler
spider webs and cut hands
a mad dog is trying to get out
an old bed a shut door
an old man is looking in
the corners of the kitchen
crossed blue eyes angry
like a mad pig