New Year’s Eve
Never dreamed about,
never spoken,
never wanting,
a friend dies.
Jo’burg.
Cold.
5a.m.
Past bedtime.
Falling asleep in the car.
The New Year ends.
The pavement is stubborn.
Glass under my skin.
Blurred sister beside.
Red, blue, red, blue.
A soft wail.
Metallic.
Dry in the mouth.
Blood pours down the
gutter.
Crying.
A broken wrist.
Someone dies on a trolley.
Do you know where you
are?
By Niall McDougall
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