>
A reverberating command
amplified through the air,
piercing into my reverie,
like clouds rolling headlong
into a fight of a Taurean pair.
My eyes averted first
to the voice that lumbered
like an audio frequency
in a static frenzy.
‘Would you care, Uranea Doily,
to answer my query?’
I wish my teacher
whom I called Miss Fouler
(her name Caddie Flower;
she smelt awful,
close to the green slime
of a Cadaverine bug’s)
didn’t bellow my name so loud.
The rest of the class snickered
‘oily doily, trouble broily'
'Er, Ms Fou.. Flower, I quite missed the line.'
(A pint of sniggering,
with a pinch of grunting…)
‘Silence!’ she roared;
like the Gods of Greek
turning tables over
Socrates’ themes.
Illustration: Miranda Fox is an image maker from London, inspired by an endless list of dark and distorted novels, avid collector and admirer of the cosmos. Working predominantly in found materials and paper. Can be found in old book shops, tea houses or at the bar with a g&t, pondering the possibilities of time travel.