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From a proposed book, ‘The Misfortunes of Others.

He thought he’d have just one last bath, before the demolition

He’d had this flat for 30 years, had signed the failed petition

Over my dead body, he’d written on that form

For 30 years on floor 19 he’d weathered every storm

He slipped and fell and banged his head

Inside that small bathroom

Lying there for three long days

Someone might find him soon

He heard the claxon blaring, to clear folks off the site

He heard the loud explosions, that put the birds to flight

He felt the building moving, and as his ending neared

The last thing that he heard on Earth

Was when everybody cheered

Photo credit: Andrea Piacquadio


Published by crispinunderfelt

All round good egg. Humanist and red wine drinker.

2 thoughts on “Bath

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