The Perfect Sacrificial Poet

Belle peers into the basket. Kobo doesn't want to come out.

The recognition scene will have to be postponed till later. Lucky Ageless has no idea.

The venue is now filled with poetry lovers. It is time for the Slam to begin.

Young Dawkins introduces Arthur, the sacrificial poet. A ripple goes through the house. Arthur Rimbaud!

Arthur stands up and starts talking.

Point of View.

I'm on a train
inside your head
you remember
I'm coming
I have a knife
and a sweet yellow line
of cakes in my pocket.

He wrecked my respectable life
but it was his fault
you wanted to run
and buy dead fish
and fight with knives till we bled
and drink absinthe
a sweet green line snaking into the belly.

you were jealous

I'm coming on the train
with cakes in my pocket
I know that he's coming
he has a knife
it's your knife
no it isn't
that was a scraper

The scraper scrapes across his neck
a sweet red line
the sacrificial poet
here I am
to bleed.

Arthur stops talking.

The house goes crazy. Everyone whistles and whoops. The judges scribble hard on their notepads.

Arthur scores full points from all the judges. They know their Arthur Rimbaud.

So much for that.