Pandora’s lost box

 

To listen to their laughter

was almost too much

like listening to a row of dominos

crashing down in totally

the wrong order.

 

To listen to their laughter

was almost too much

like listening to the waves

from the nearby coastline

choking itself to death.

 

Two beautiful young women

swinging cigarettes and beer

with a miraculous flow of movement

that skilled jugglers would

struggled to contain

before they returned

to where they had come from.

 

Two beautiful young women

with rolled up cigarettes

trying to give the impression

of Greek goddesses

but in reality looked more like

Medusa and her twin sister.

 

And although they didn’t have

snakes dangling out of their hair

they had a deep fire

springing out of its redness

in the moonlight

which had men offering

them cigarettes

before they returned

to where they had come from

almost like they didn’t know what

they were doing.

 

And although in the morning

once the alcohol and cigarettes

had melted into the past

they will return to everyday life

like a pair of overstuffed vampires,

 

leaving,

 

leaving

 

leaving you glad you chose

to stay in the shadows

like a sun catcher to the moon

or Pandora who had lost her box.

 

 

 

(NB. Painting by my friend, Olga Gerke)