Avr

Poem By Gillian Thurlby

Doom and Gloom
And have you heard
She’s going to have an op.
Not just a lump
Or a nick and a tuck
They’re going to open her up.
With a slice and a saw
And a pumping of blood
They’ll stop the old heart
Then call for the pig.
They’ll shove in its bit
And cobble her up
They’ll undo the pump
And give her a jump
They’ll get out the staples,
The pliers and string
And hope that they haven’t left anything in.
They’ll push in a tube
Wherever they can
They’ll give her a fix
And say wake up ‘nan’
Its time to move on
Forget any pain
There are others in line
And we’re dying to do it again.

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Other poems of THURLBY

London July 7,2005 (Villanelle)

The seventh month the seventh day
Four men with rucksacks said goodbye
Their time to die their time to pray

A Marriage (1)

Actions, not words, declare his love
Phrases of endearment do not pass his lips
Kisses tell what he would speak of
His thoughts transmitted through his finger tips

Ode To Summer

Season of barbeques and ripening fruit
Discomfort under too mature a sun
Of burgers poorly cooked and sausages
Crammed in a grubby, stale and tasteless bun

Completion

An empty shell
Wearing an expression that I recognise
Fingers holding yellow freesias
Curtains unhooked

Mother Dying

We talked all day
Each Saturday
For many months
But never solved the jig-saw of our words.

Koan

How many thoughts can I hold in my mind
How many feelings feel
Do emotions compete to be one of a kind
As they dance in an intricate reel