Typed Music


I suppose these are just little pieces of me, wrapped up in words.

The forgotten melodies of my mind.


3. There’s a bomb in the history cupboard

There’s a bomb in the history cupboard,
Don’t panic – it’s diffused
I think.
Everyone sit still
Shut up
Don’t move
Pretend not to be panicked
By the incendiary relic
Hiding behind its gas mask
But really, as we write out dates,
We imagine flames plastering their tongues
To our skin
And licking and lapping
Until these thoughts can only smoulder.




No joke; the caretaker at my school had to check a cupboard in the history department, he came out and said "You do know there's a bomb in there, don't you?"

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