Nightmare Fuel Day the Second - - Forget that you Saw Me

Just a scrap of poetry from me today. The image has text in it, and the text spoke to me more loudly and clearly than the actual graphic.

Charles Moore continued yesterday's story, and is building a nice sense of foreboding. Samantha Dunaway Bryant has a neat little fable, with an implied story of injustice and regret. Finally, there's Jenny Persson whose work has a wonderful meter and a frantic scrambling kind of fear to contrast with Moore's slow-burn implied terror.

Image is by David Shrigley, from tumblr.

Try to Forget that you Saw Me

"Casual Friday is tomorrow. You aren't allowed to wear a kilt".

I heard that you said it, I heard that they laughed.

Yes, the joke got back to me. It's a small world, after all. What do I want?

Just try to forget that you saw me. You can do that. It'll be better.

Try to forget that you saw me when I wore trousers and a shirt with buttons on the right. That should be easy. It was long ago, and I wasn't yet myself.

Try to forget that you saw me the day I dressed Scottish, hairy knees bare under pleated tartan. It's not really that funny a joke anymore, is it?

Image my david shrigley

Try to forget that you saw me on the street, shirt buttons on the left, wearing leggings because I didn't shave my legs today.

Try to forget that you saw me, because the name that you knew me by is long dead.

the face that you knew is dead

my shirtbuttons have moved to the other side.

Try to forget that you saw me because I've become the kind of woman men like you never seem to see anyway.

So please

just

try to forget that you saw me.