Tuesday, September 05, 2006



Mum (2002)

's the word...

1 comment:

Anonymous said...


She has never been satisfied. The soup
is too hot, the carrots undercooked,
slabs of beef chunky with fat,
and the tomato flavor bland.

Sunlight shears the lace curtains
leaving their edges frayed or singed,
while humidity swamps her curls, even after
having spent all that money at the hairdresser's.

Her friends have started dressing up
as if every day was Sunday in church,
and some who still have their eyesight
gossip about those who have lost their hearing.

The only one who will pay attention
now that her husbands have died
is her daughter whom she phones hourly
to see how much guilt she can cause.

She knows better but cannot help herself.
The nurses are never around enough.
In the face of all this sweet indifference
resisting death, she refuses to be silenced.

[Disposable Poem September 6, 2006]

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