The Weekly Ritual

The Weekly Ritual

Those carved, steel doors where we queued,

our feet and jaws twitching like spider legs,

our fresh garments slightly ill fitting, but still

fit for purpose.

Avoiding eye contact at the entrance, those

oversized hands grabbing our feet, like crows

to the foil. We open those doors to the false 

smoke and light.

We swagger on matchstick legs, our banter about

as confident as our walk. We only shuffle within 

packs, in which we remain incandescent, without

breaking character.

Towards the end, shuffling like robots, our mouths

and minds dry. We exit confident we have left our 

mark. Our presence only to be muttered in whispers

by no one but ourselves. 

Jonathan Butcher

Jonathan Butcher has had work appear in various publications both online and in print including: Outlaw Poetry, Drunk Monkeys, Picaroon Poetry, Popshot, The Transnational, The Morning Star, Ink, Sweat &Tears, Plastic Futures and others. His second chapbook 'Broken Slates' was published by Flutter Press. He lives in Sheffield, England. 

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