Treasure Island

Dónall Dempsey

(15/07/56 / Curragh Camp, Co. Kildare, Eire.)

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' SO MUCH FOR THE WEATHER FORECAST!


It was raining
in the kitchen.

“Splish...splash! ”
said my footsteps

enjoying themselves
like never before.

It was like
a swamp.

The butter was swimming
in its blue bowl.

The sugar
had dissolved in its.

The bread was
sodden

and was busy losing
a lot of its breadiness.

Little pieces
of shit

lazily floated from
the cat’s litter.

The sink
had half a sink of rain

in it
as well as last night’s dirty dishes.

The kettle with the lid left off
had filled itself twice.

It had never rained
in the kitchen

...before.

The book left open on page 69
was dying.

The mobile phone
looked like it wasn’t

having an exactly
good time.

The stone
that some kids had thrown

sat on the table
like a king on its throne.

The broken skylight
gathered around it

listening like flunkeys
to everything

the stone
had said.

The birthday cake
lay dead.

The ink
on the letter

wept
copiously

ran
away crying.

Respondez s’il vous plait.

It was raining in the kitchen.

“Damn! ”
we both said

in unison
“Damn! ”

Submitted: Tuesday, June 01, 2010

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