hugely promising, this, Andrew. Do send further drafts!
Makes me apologize retrospectively for my many unspontaneous 'snaps'.
All mine should be labelled - 'snap, somewhat doctored'
On 28/06/2012, at 2:01 AM, Andrew Burke wrote:
> thanks, Sheila - I'm sorry about the double spacing. I forgot it did that.
> andrew
>
> On 27 June 2012 23:42, Sheila Murphy <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>
>> Andrew, I am quite taken with the imagery here, the accuracy with which you
>> show the truth of what happens there. Thank you for this! Sheila
>>
>> On Wed, Jun 27, 2012 at 12:25 AM, Andrew Burke <[log in to unmask]>
>> wrote:
>>
>>> *Anaesthetic Aesthetics*
>>>
>>>
>>>
>>> I enter hospital, not knowing
>>>
>>> who I’m going to see :: dead, living,
>>>
>>> actors slipping into their roles
>>>
>>> for theatre. I greet all I meet
>>>
>>> with a happy face, reflecting
>>>
>>> the intelligence of a decorated biscuit
>>>
>>> at a birthday party. I am their balloon
>>>
>>> to pump up with their machines, to
>>>
>>> pop with their sharp knives. They wheel me
>>>
>>> down long corridors of light, I’m facing
>>>
>>> a *her* face and a *his* face, upside down,
>>>
>>> clowns taking me for a ride. They
>>>
>>> stop and put me on a serving tray.
>>>
>>> *Me!* Soon I am floating in liquid air
>>>
>>> where I keep my true self, mid-deep
>>>
>>> in a lake where naught swim but I.
>>>
>>> I surface to play my role, an impro
>>>
>>> where parts are tagged and we
>>>
>>> create our own diurnal dialogues
>>>
>>> and midnight monologues to those
>>>
>>> playing dark night nurse. My balloon self
>>>
>>> sags in a field where the tent is up, a circus
>>>
>>> of before nows, yesterdays, the dead ones
>>>
>>> who have stayed for one reason or
>>>
>>> no other. Once they circled
>>>
>>> coming into focus as faces smiling
>>>
>>> before their skin flaked off
>>>
>>> and death faces blew away in
>>>
>>> a silent breeze. Again I am
>>>
>>> in their hands, again I float from
>>>
>>> their theatre to my circus domain –
>>>
>>> now my mother approaches
>>>
>>> with a friendly grin made all
>>>
>>> the more horrific by her death. It isn’t
>>>
>>> about her – it’s about me. Yet
>>>
>>> I still don’t understand, as I return
>>>
>>> with my laughing biscuit intelligence
>>>
>>> fresh from the baking fire.
>>>
>>> --
>>>
>>> Not truly a snap because I have worked on it - this is draft six. Any
>>> comments all welcome.
>>>
>>>
>>> Andrew
>>> http://hispirits.blogspot.com/
>>>
>>
>
>
>
> --
> Andrew
> http://hispirits.blogspot.com/
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