The Last Dream of Donald

The Last Dream of Donald

Donald had a dream he never dreamt of,

thousands of acolytes gathered around

his majestic bed, sniffing the scent of

a long buried fear he hadn’t yet found.


He felt their clammy fingers make a start,

press his skin, penetrate his inner core.

They jiggled his lungs and tickled his heart,

fingered his brain, until tacky sweat poured


from tangerine skin onto pristine sheets:

then left this narcissistic soul in bed

to the snake which slithered round his feet

and licked the suppurations from his head.


Then the image of his true self surged up.

The acolytes began to pant, revel

in his panic and, chanting softly, urged

on the resurrection of their devil.  

◄ Lonely Windows

Cargo 200 - Special Delivery ►


Profile image

M.C. Newberry

Sun 12th Sep 2021 16:00

Demonising Donald? I'm old enough to remember the Sinatra . song "Tangerine" - with its bright upbeat theme. Those that
concern me more move through the shadows of deceit disguised as virtue and ineptitude masquerading as efficiency.

. .


Profile image

Stephen Gospage

Sat 11th Sep 2021 17:40

Brilliant and worrying!

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message