Monday, March 28, 2011


It came into my head last Tuesday:
a simple side-step off the pavement
in front of a truck.

I had to fight the urge,
I had to physically not step:
I had to not satisfy the curiosity,
to not experience the oblivion.

It might be on page seven
of the local newspaper -
forever famous as that bloke
who just ended it all like that.

It would be a selfless fame:
more noble than X-Factor or
Britain's Got Talent.
More authentic than Big Brother.

It wouldn't be my own
mediocrity that defined me;
or even the flowers on nearby
railings that might be left;

but the act. There is no name
to remember: no whatsisface that
sang whatdoyoucallit? Just that
bloke who stepped.

Now, every lunchtime I walk
close to the curb, knowing I'm just
a step away from

--Ashley Fisher was born in South Cumbria, England in 1976 and currently lives in East Yorkshire. He edits the poetry magazine "Turbulence".

1 comment:

Bruce Millar said...

fantastic twist.