deepundergroundpoetry.com
the red necktie
The red necktie
He woke on the sofa, fully dressed
vaguely remembered an argument with a woman
He took a shower, made coffee
turned on the radio that told of a woman strangled
by a red necktie.
He paled under his fake tan; his tie was red, lost in
a brawl in a bar, did he? No, he was a friendly sort
he liked to think of himself, surely not…!
What to do now? Call the police and confess
To a crime, he could not remember having committed?
He looked out of the window into an empty street
Sunday morning, people were still sleeping
or perhaps the street had been cleared so that they could
arrest him without using force?
Now, he needed a drink, opened the drink cabinet
and there was his tie knotted on the solid neck
of whisky bottle
He woke on the sofa, fully dressed
vaguely remembered an argument with a woman
He took a shower, made coffee
turned on the radio that told of a woman strangled
by a red necktie.
He paled under his fake tan; his tie was red, lost in
a brawl in a bar, did he? No, he was a friendly sort
he liked to think of himself, surely not…!
What to do now? Call the police and confess
To a crime, he could not remember having committed?
He looked out of the window into an empty street
Sunday morning, people were still sleeping
or perhaps the street had been cleared so that they could
arrest him without using force?
Now, he needed a drink, opened the drink cabinet
and there was his tie knotted on the solid neck
of whisky bottle
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 2
reading list entries 0
comments 1
reads 211
Commenting Preference:
The author is looking for friendly feedback.