at liberty to choose

Charlie met Esther on abortionist roe.

Hedges neatly trimmed – enough to disheval a bearded vagabond to weep after his latest woe.

No coat hangers to gut the newborn sac.

Charlie stood for hours until her number came up.

Raging

rouge screen screams with a tremulous beep.

Surreal,

Conceal;

Unable

to strike the star lead role in a Bolly wood film deal.

unsullied arrived in a cumulous cloud,

stricken by a thunderous compulsion to wail.

Esther didn’t hear the bond lust, lilted scream.

memory hazed -by two fat ladies at gate number 8.

Efforts disarmed – inability to count down to the primal odd.

nebulous chlorophyll masked her mouth.

Envy immoblised to an unrecalled dream.

Innocents smile;

swinging on tyres.

Freddie Kruger caught in a static slumber loses night mare credibility to a sterile clinic;

Action paralysing every unconscious scene.

Strathem , London-night defends to keep watch.

Both stumble upon a tidy little room – 1970’s style. No disco defiblerater harmonizing jolts to the beat of

‘ Staying alive ‘

Old granny hoovered up flowers chocked in ivy a patterned carpet ,

Mist of lavender lingers. This bitch knows how to spray.

Dont mess with the O.G.

Peppered,seasoned hair, non linear lines carve out a facial narrative.

Don’t be fooled by this kungfu hoe.

inebriated illiterates

desensitized to her strategy in a game of cruel cluedo.

It’s all so normal. It’s life, you know..

Scissors ready to stab a beating heart,

Positioned in foetal

Sucked out the uterus.

Pro choice.

Pro voice .

Pro life.

Pro midwife.

Tall walled wars.

Bricks bolster the Illusion of affairs in order.

Nobody is scrutinized so fiercely as the woman who maps out her own destiny – navigates the boundaries that her ideals can afford her.

Qality control.

The NHS paid for a private eye.

Two signatures deemed sufficiant to see her through the hours of her sobering silence.

Shame less in her flowered disguise.

Ginger nuts ,un savoury tufts.

No, this wasn’t her nine month due – no ice cubes for killing in the name of freedom to govern her own vessel.

No need for pro life stepford wives lies.

Sins annoint.

Sins accumulate.

Where would our saints stand without a dissident at hand?

Society sit down, protest proudly.

Part the veil of clouds

Peer piously downwards,

ready to strike thunder bolts of judgement.

Rain down booming terror tactics .

Esther cares not for their gospel band

Society sips, exhalingg wafts of fair trade, Ivory coast coffee beans.

Privilege smells of a modern holocaust of starving babies in bony mothers arms.

Who said any of these women consented to consummate?

Penatrative obedience to the phallic statues erected in morning glory psalms.

Civilized society!

What if God was one of us?

a scripture in the making.-

Touch and kiss the sky .

Would he become the true reflection we see ,when we catch ourselves about to exhale the final breathe ,before we die?

Fantasies always signed off with a silver lining and promises of a rainbow.

Reality is cold,

winter serves a plateau of ice .

Frigid flowers frozen in angst,

Shatter

like glass.

Rebel against their reproductive nature.

Air,

breathe.

One full gasp.

If only a mere raspy rant leaves on its depart.

It’s either them or an urban jungle of homo sapians collecting another free day ride .

Ready to infect ignorance on every global ocean that has shores that go out at low tide.

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