Mercy
COLIN NEWMAN, GRAHAM LEWIS
Crooks lay in a weighted state
Waiting for the dead assassin
While the rust pure powder puffs
Shimmering opaque red
Papers spread, no one driving
We hurled direct ahead
The windows dark-green tinted
The hearse, a taxi instead
Snow storms forecast imminently in areas
Dogger, Viking, Moray, Forth, and Orkney
Keeping cover in denuded scrub, the school destroyed, raze the club
Panic spreading, threat of fire
Crowded beneath a layer of foam
Refugees intertwined, alone
Within the institution walls
In pastel blue, clinical white, slashed red lipsticked
Mercy nurse tonight
Seems like dark grey stockings
In the raking torchlight
With a four AM stubble
A midnight transvestite
Moray, Forth, and Orkney