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Archive for the ‘Irene Rawnsley’ Category

She climbs out of her coffin
every morning, puts on
an old fur coat and drives
to school to be a teacher.
 
During the day she seems
almost human, though a shade
too interested in
the history of tombstones.
 
Giveaways are long black hair,
fondness for red ink,
the silver bat she sometimes
pins to her lapel.
 
Pupils are wary of her smile,
having glimpsed
through staffroom curtains
her ritual [...]

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