Mummy Boy
he wasn´t a soft and pink with a fat little tummy;
he was a hard and hollow, a little boy mummy.
“tell us, please, doctor, the reason or cause,
why our bundle of joy is just a bundle of gauze.”
“my diagnosis,” he said, “for the better or worse,
is that your son is the result of an old pharaoh´s curse.”
(…)
It was late in the day—just before dark.
Mummy boy took his dog for a walk in the park.
The park was empty except for a squirrel,
and a birthday party of an mexican girl.
the boys and girls had started to play,
but noticed that thing that looked like papier mâché .
“Look, it´s like a pinata,” said one of the boys,
“lets crack it wide open and get candy and toys.”
they took a baseball bat and whacked open his head.
Mummy boy fell to the ground; he finally was dead.
Inside of his head were no candy or prizes,
just a few stray beetles of various sizes.
Taken from TIM BURTON´S short story “MUMMY BOY“.
Abstract from a book, called “THE MELANCHOLY DEATH OF THE OYSTER BOY & OTHER STORIES”
Schlagworte: Abstract, books, mummy boy, photography, Poem, short story, THE MELANCHOLY DEATH OF THE OYSTER BOY & OTHER STORIES, tim burton
ANNEKA
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Arvida
at swim-two-birds