|
SENTINEL POETRY #26 Online Magazine Monthly, January 2005 |
|
AKIKO TAYLOR Phone Call
To A Samaritan ...Oh,
not again. Please don't offer me a hope. I had many, believe me. But
all slipped through my hands, then disappeared into thin
air, like bubbles of soap... No, I can't. No... How could
I face another sunrise? Today is my last day and I've
hung this skipping rope over the door frame... Yes, I
know what I'm doing. Now, I'll kick this chair, then...
How could you expect me to cope with all this?.. Yes, I know
it's nothing to do with you. But imagine, for 18 months,
rolling down a steep slope non-stop without nothing to
hold on to... Oh, how sweet of you. But, you know, your
words are like a kaleidoscope: tumbling, glittering, pretty
without no purpose... Oh, no. I told you. I don't want
another bloody useless hope!... ...Hello?.. Are you still
there?.. Hello?.. Is this line dead?... Akiko Taylor was born in
Tokyo, Japan. She writes from Portadown, UK. She has been previously
published in Sentinel Poetry (online) among other publications. |