I know I have been really, really shite at keeping this up to date but you know, whatever. Who are you the blog Police?
Any who, a few weeks ago I was walking to my car when this happened: http://www.independent.ie/national-news/rushhour-tragedy-as-man-dies-after-being-hit-by-luas-2902930.html
He was about 100 yards away from me. I was messing with my MP3 player and just happened to look up and heard the blast of the horn, the screeching brakes and then the dull thud of impact. I, like everyone else present, rang the ambulance. The sickening sound and the momentary glance the man gave to oncoming tram have been stuck in my mind since. Not to make it out that I am permanently scarred by the events but I would not be human if they did not affect me.
I had been going through something of a writers block and sadly, it seems, that it takes an event to make poetry.
Wednesday 10th October, 2011
My car rolls to a quiet stop
As I watch the clouds
Skim across mountain tops.
Silent and white against
A clear blue early evening sky.
Last night, I saw a man die.
A life drawn to a close
Under the weight of a tram,
Passers by instantly on mobile phones.
He staggered along the tram lines
A breif look back before impact
A screech, a horn, a sickening smack.
In other news, Dr Conrad Murray was found guilty of involutary manslaughter of Michael Jackson. And other than, perhaps, the weight of evidence against him and the desire to blame someone, I think it might be the right verdict. What annoys me are the totally over the top and hysterical wankers who followed the trail. Like his music, but, do not go mental. And some dumb bastard brought a Vuvuzela – who the hell does that? Who packs some food, maybe a coke, crappy home made guilty sign and a fucking vuvuzela! Maybe now that a man who was treated like a freak show for his entire life and exhibited after death can get some peace.