Gloves

Today I found a baby's glove Lying on the drainage board so still Yesterday a leather glove from the slim hand of a woman. The next time I saw one it was lying half frozen and twisted on the kerb.. And I, now I have my own private collection All lined in rows when you open up the wardrobe doors Now I have no room for my obsession Lined up and labeled in neat little packets. The next time I saw one it stuck inside my head And became all that I could think about. I'll think twice before I pick it up this time Since I thought about what it had done And where it had been and who it had belonged to And I'll twice before I pick it up this time I thought about who it might have done And where it had come from and what it might have belonged to. The next time I saw one I had that itching sensation But my hands stayed by my sides and I couldn't take it. And through wax seals and padlocks A hand through my ribcage. Past the choking I saw palms and fingers grasping shoulders, collarbone, crushing. I imagined myself hacking desperately at a sea of appendages, Forward and right, freeing myself like a butcher, Feeling the mash of bone and sinew running slowly down the front of my body And I couldn't take it any more, I said, "I've got to go, I've got to get out of here," And I ran down the street, I've got to get out of here, I've got to go --- Gloves - The Horrors