Poem 112
More fate and bad luck (see Poem 110) … written in my last year at Waikato University and another one (self) published in the student newspaper …
… I like the rhythm and rhyme, and the way things move inexorably closer to the narrator …
( when I laid this out for Nexus I added a graphic, a James Thurber cartoon of a man lurching up in bed in fright – I can’t think of the poem without that image now … )
Night Of The Long Odds
The killer will not enter my house tonight the chance is too slim for thought my door is barred with probability and the lessons my teachers taught for the killer is one in a million and his victim is number two somewhere tonight they will meet while I sleep they rendezvous but the killer will not enter my house tonight the odds deny him his way he will keep his date in another place and allow me the grace of a day for the killer is one in a million and his victim is number two though I lie here sleepless staring there is nothing more to do yes the odds are as slim as a blade that slips between window and sill as the victim lays out the pact that the killer must fulfil and the killer is one in a million his victim just number two my house is broken and hollow and the night comes seeping through I hear him in my house and I hear him at my back I see the door is opening and there is darkness through the crack though he is one in a million I am number two and a small voice says tonight tonight the victim is you