but each day it was exactly
the same for our boss -
he’d scream,
shout and hurl things about,
mostly over nothing -
before he’d stare
at you
and shake madly,
until you weren’t sure if he was
about to explode, or cum -
his raw energy and bitter hatred
was so incredible that I got
the feeling that even if a soupçon
of love was let into his life,
it would have been so disarming
and eye opening -
that it could have
lifted mountains into the sky
and I hope that he found love,
even if it was a love for himself -
but I seriously doubt that
the miserable bastard
ever did.
Gwil James Thomas is a novelist, poet and inept musician. His written work can be found in numerous publications in print and online and has been nominated for The Pushcart Prize and Best of The Net. He resides in his hometown of Bristol, England, but has also lived in London, Brighton and Spain. His most recent chapbook can be found here: https://analogsubmission.com/chapbooks/gwiljamesthomas-cocoontransitions
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