bruised arse way of life

“A photograph can be an instant of life, captured for eternity, that will never cease looking back at you.” - Brigitte Bardot
All I had to do was dial 1800-dysfunctional 
and he’d be there with handcuffs and a dictionary  
ready for a talk, a fight, a fuck  
maybe all three  
It had been a while since we’d faced each other  
without  boxing gloves - I wanted to get all philosophical  
discuss the meanings of life, maybe recreate  
a random nostalgic scene from the old days  
when humour and intelligence were everything  
His response was to give a smile that was all cheek  
and show me a photo of his bruised arse  
from the last time he smeared himself  
across the pavement in the reinvention  
of drunken self-revelation  
In that moment I remembered why I left  
the day his scars lost their readability, with the realisation  
that they painted the same pictures they’d been painting  
since he was five years old and daddy beat him  
for playing with the guns the old man had drunkenly left out  
© Indie Adams 2012
Written by Indie (Miss Indie)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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