Miracle

It was a phenomena when his wife stopped talking altogether
and in stead of making him her black burned meatballs
she just stared as if she had seen enlightenment or a ghost down the road.
People were surprised and called her holy, they only whispered in her presence.

When after a month she still sat there in silence
without touching her tea nor her Weetabix, her stout, her gin and tonic, her muffins, her duretics,
they worshipped her for this miracle of complete abstraction
as she was holy no doubt and people claimed they were healed by her stare.

Then this snotty boy from across the street noticed
how she was falling apart, smelled like a dead rat
and was it not a bit odd
that she had not taken a breath for thirty days?

Thank God the priest who came by every day
took the little pest home
where the sinner got a good spanking
for his disruptive behaviour.
Are flies not creatures of God as well?

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Comments on: "Miracle" (12)

  1. Only someone who understood well how to use the English language could have written this.

    It is a wonderful new take on the ‘Emperor’s new clothes’

    Brilliant

    xxx

    David

    • 🙂 thank you very much. That is true, now you’ve come to mention it, it has that theme! I think reading Paul Durcan has something to do with it too.
      xxx

  2. It would certainly match with Paul Durcan’s sense of humour 🙂

    xxx

  3. A shiver and a smile!! L &H xx

  4. Wicked! Lots of layers here. Brava!

  5. Keep on doing what you’re doing.

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