Haunt Game

I wanted to write a story

I'm old enough to remember things that happened around 1949

By eleven I could imagine myself grown up

In this fiction of life writing

The Map Boy haunts the wood

In our theatre of the unremembered

Massive amounts of what happens to you

You go through the doors that open

It was the time of the waif

Holloway

In a city you've only known three days

I wanted to write the story of a life