Napo 8- SusanWhy did you lock her out of heavenand throw the keyinto the lions land?A beautiful girl enjoyingyouths ignorance;a new fantasy to live. She'd stopped believing, butfaith stays in a heart longerthan a head. "She wasted all her school time wanting to be the age she is now, and she'll waste all the rest of her life trying to stay that age"
Napo 7- Teen of the 90'sI wanted to be Posh Spice because myhair was brown bobbed and she dated DavidBeckham; I wanted to marry him. Ihad no internet and recorded songson the radio to tape, daring topause and knock out the DJ’s droll. I sangto S Club and thought I was the coolestin my smiley faced top and my yingyangfriendship necklaces. You had to know theMacarena not just for weddings butschool discos too and then every steps routineto fit in. Slow dances with boys made mewish again that they were David Beckhamand not greasy teens with bad curtains forhair. They pressed themselves against you beforetravelling to the next girl in leopardprint skirt. Viva forever was merelya fantasy ; one I’d dream the whole ofthe nineties, hoping my teenage self couldfind her inner strength, her true girl power.
Napo 6- IreneShe left you a letteroutwitting at last the greatest.A photograph, filched;a King’s humiliation.In your eyes sheholds the highest.
Napo 5- In the ParkWe can’t forget thesunglasses. If we do,we’ll be conspicuous.
Napo 4- Warrior with painted faceThere’s a warrior with a painted faceand streaks of black across his chest; he standswild with pride. His merciless eyes ignited by theechoes of fallen enemies. He slewtwo hundred men and just scars mark their defence.There’s a warrior with a painted facewho prays to gods mightier than he; he kneelsarms open to implore. He calls upon his armyto pray with him; equals once more. He watchesembers burn before retiring to his tent.There’s a warrior with a painted faceand inside his heart rests a son and daughtersleeping. There is a reason he isa warrior.
Napo 3- Leaving the Train Station Leaving the train stationalone I watch strangers head home.The waves for yellow cabs andstench of fresh-lit cigarettes, I letthe cold cloud white breath.Even at midnight, a long-coated businessmanhurries past with laptop bag bulging and blackberry to ear. Behind me,a clip-clack of heels and giggles-their night hasn’t ended. Across the road, three youths in hoodedtops kick a can whilst eating chips only stoppingas clip-clacks pass them and swoonimmaturity. Swear words exchange.In the ice-wind rubbish travels as if takinga commute, tapa-tapping the concrete. Exhausted I can only wait withwhite breath etching blue hands desperate to bewarmed. Eyes fight; tired andvigilant
Napo 2- Zombie ApocolypseTurn, turn, slow turn. Twist bonesbroke but drag drag behind, pulltug flesh ripped. Shuffle, groan desireonly for blood brains.Undead, unliving, unknown.To survive a zombie apocalypse don’t bea hero. Do not fight marauders withoutnecessity. Attrition; gnawing for bareminimal (lest you be gnawed upon!). Tosurvive ravenous army equip your your wits and an axe.Moan as much as they moan- both sides are hungry.
LiliesDo lilies cry when they wilt?Do they beg on weak stalksto a deity they have not worshipped since raindrops first felland touched each petal; an angelskiss. Do they beg in hope their lives are spared orthat a resurrection can be blessedwith fresh water? Does the sun emerge brighter in death;a ray of glitter,a seat in paradisetheir sweet pollen inhaledonce more.