red suds
red suds foam onto the floor
frothy blood spat out in mouthfuls,
an extraction that leaves a face that feels like
its repeatedly being slammed in a door.
red suds foam down my shirt
my numb mouth lets it trickle out,
this bus is packed and wondering why
this strange mans bleeding like a slaughtered pig.
red suds at the newsagents
blood all over the tabloid bunkum,
chased outside by an elderly asian man
my head hurts so much I cant see.
red suds all over the toilet
black and white tiles have changed colour,
bath towels are in need of a machine
I smell and taste of iron.
red suds have at last stopped flowing
I don’t want to endure this again,
I don’t want that pain in lead role
if at all possible I think I’ll refrain.
