This time last year spent so much time in hospital cafes with the vending
machines that always puzzled me or never worked and the paintings on the
walls that seemed completey out of place plus the wheel chairs stuck in
corridors your poem captures this feeling very much for me Christina. Bw
Sally J
>From: Christina Fletcher <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: New sub: Tea Break (working draft)
>Date: Thu, 16 Dec 2004 04:10:57 EST
>
>It seems rather quiet so I'm posting this although I've posted too much
>recently and it's pretty awful to feel so noisy. Come on, lurkers: there
>are
>lots of you out there and we'd love to see what you're writing.
>bw
>christina
>
>
> Tea Break
>
>
>Find the vending machine, coins.
>Tea with milk and sugar:
>a gush of scalding liquid.
>
> Wheel her through the atrium,
>past a grand piano, Icarus suspended
>on wire, into the maze of arrows:
>
> Gynaecology, Oncology, phones
>that tell you to pick them up if you're lost. All the while
>she’s holding her blanket, praying out loud,
>
> 'Father God, give me back my hearing,
>help me not to say the wrong thing,
>in the name of Jesus'. Wait
>
> who knows how long, in the silent
>shouting room. Lift the lid. Bellow,
>'Careful dear, it's still hot!'
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> christina fletcher
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