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,
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> 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
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> and death faces blew away in
>
> a silent breeze. Again I am
>
> in their hands, again I float from
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> 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/
>
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