Between the Lines

Somewhere between here and there
and the enumerated nonsensical,
he fell straight down, landing on his side.
From above, he looks to be strolling
down the horizontal pitch.
Make no mistake though,
his fall was vertical and serious.
We don’t know if he walked off
an abyss, or was pushed off a plane.
If you were to approach him
he would not move for he is deader
than dead, his eyes wide open
as if were about to score a goal.
The music still blares from his iPod
filling his deaf ears with a new age
ambient dirge. The grass is soaking up
his blood as if it were real. The cops
will go through his papers, all blank,
and his wallet, identifying him as a
cartoon character (Mr. Magoo).
The coroner will declare his death
the result of a fall from on high.
People are holding vigils. They look
up to the sky for an answer but
no clue appears, only the clouds
calmly passing by. There he lays

Between the Lines

a relatively young landlubber
with fractured skull, broken neck,
hips, legs and arms. Whatever
his goal he has scored a big one,
as he is front page breaking news,
a welcome distraction from all
the flailing democracies.
The yellow press have declared him
an alien invader. others say there
were large holes in his back where
his wings were torn from him.
I say, fake news, man, fake news.