“Kite” by Mick Corrigan

 

"on the Common, Kite Flying" by Vickers Deville

“On the Common, Kite Flying” by Vickers Deville

Kite

I
never apologised
never explained
take me
or
leave me
I said
my head thrown back
arms outstretched
spotlight haze
haloing me
in
cigarette smoke
and bawdy
lecherous
laughter

many of them
took me

of course
they did

I
was
a
beautiful
sexual
charismatic
free
human
animal
and
I liberated them
momentarily
from their shit
joyless
lives.

I
sang
on the stage
of the
Kit Kat Club
Koepenicker Strasse
gave blowjobs
for cash
in the alley
behind it
don’t judge me
times were hard
men were hard
I did
what
I had
to do

until you’re
starving
you don’t know
what you’ll eat

I watched
small betrayals
become
big betrayals
fear
and
hatred
coalesced
in to
those
dark siblings
concensus
and
well known
fact

It’s the jews
they said
it’s the reds
they said
the foreigners
they said
the trade unionists
they said
the handicapped
they said
the gypsies
they said
the queers
they said

and I knew
I was fucked

They came for me
the morning after Kristallnacht
pasty
pale
aryans
grinning
like hyenas
hunting
through
the glittering glass
beat me bloody
pinned
a pink star
to my breast
sent me
to the camp
planned by architects
designed by engineers
built by tradesmen
staffed
by
ordinary
decent
people

I saw all that men are capable of
I watched horror become
A mundane
Daily thing
Coated grey
In human ash
Organised
Institutionalised
Condoned
Official
I
am a survivor
I
survived

The Americans freed me
my spirit barely attached
to what was left
of my body
but
I
was
still
human
and
I
did
not
die

I.Did.Not.Die

I
went to live
in the land
of the well fed
and nearly free
I never sang again
the music left me
and did not return
but
one evening
I wandered
into
seedy Soho
and watched
a beautiful
young man
sing
arms outstretched
head thrown back
haloed
in cigarette smoke
and spotlight haze
the basement room
thick
with beery
lecherous
laughter
I sat
in the darkness
at my solitary table
and sobbed
quietly
for life
and loss

Life
Goes
On

I lived
until
the day
I died
stretched flat
on the spring grass
my heart
dark blossoming
in my chest
as the light dimmed
I saw
silhouetted against the evening sky
a kite
ragged
beautiful
solitary
free.

 

Mick Corrigan has been writing for several years and has been published in a range of periodicals, magazines and on-line journals. He is in his fifties (at least he thinks they’re his fifties, they could be someone else’s), and lives in County Kildare, Ireland with Trish his lifer, Molly the talking wonder dog, Ben the ever so cool collie and Bandit the gin drinking dowager cat. He likes a well-made porkpie hat and regularly has ideas above his station.

 

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