TGIF! And have a lovely new artist showcase for you today from Chris Kelso. Not only can he draw but he writes poetry too! 

- FROM THE TUNNEL

A sickbed smell that’s sweet and suffocating

Those relics in their coffins

Waiting

Just waiting to be lowered deep into the dirt

When a pink faced relic turns to me

Clutching a fistful of duvet

Eyes bursting wide like looking planets

Her mouth releasing a faint groan

Her tongue - sandpaper behind denture

- BEWARE THE MIRRORS, she yowls

Then other relics shoot up all surprised

Strings of apparatus and feeding tubes  

Sway like beating wheat

A chorus of

- BEWARE THE MIRRORS

God’s in his tunnel staring down at the ward

Checking his watch fob

Moving the dial forward

With a single index

Preparing to loosen his heavy belt

Fluids shoot forth like a punctured keg

Suns fall and moons impose their lunar lights

Leaves are turning

Pinkness pales

Pockmarks like a plague in the Paediatric dept.

Wrinkles and dimples

God’s in his furnace turning kids old

Winding down

Time