Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Pam Brown

Lab face

Lab face

Lab face

heavenly shades    of  night
         are falling           it\'s twilight time,
   thinking outside the tick box
                        on the last day of the past,
           to ready my selves
                       for an inurement of toil
I\'m sauntering over
                      to a cheap eats turn
     at the food court,
                 a bit of a do and a bite to eat,
something         to help stave off
             hollering inertia

                                       everything’s
    in the planning stages
         but I really should leach the gel
                          that carries the signal
                                        from node to screen,
         add some figures
            to this year\'s calculations,
then add some lines
                            to the homilies

as follows

Dear toddlers                I loved the 80s
       (my true thoughts)
drinking ginger beer in Uzbekistan
      beside huge black and white photos
                                  of mosque restoration
along a corridor of murals
        a corridor of communist heroes

  jumping up and down on the spot
    in time to a band called Soft Cell,
papering the walls
             with posters of pink champagne,
re-registering on the electoral roll,
                        ah, the heady 80s

but later, tonight,
  knowing this is the last century
          of which I\'ll partake,
                  (my lassitude,
                      my disbelief, and
               mon dieu, my grief)
       I\'ll lie on the laboratory couch
(I\'m looking forward to it too)
marvelling
       at how my little egg doth pong
Close

Lab face

heavenly shades    of  night
         are falling           it\'s twilight time,
   thinking outside the tick box
                        on the last day of the past,
           to ready my selves
                       for an inurement of toil
I\'m sauntering over
                      to a cheap eats turn
     at the food court,
                 a bit of a do and a bite to eat,
something         to help stave off
             hollering inertia

                                       everything’s
    in the planning stages
         but I really should leach the gel
                          that carries the signal
                                        from node to screen,
         add some figures
            to this year\'s calculations,
then add some lines
                            to the homilies

as follows

Dear toddlers                I loved the 80s
       (my true thoughts)
drinking ginger beer in Uzbekistan
      beside huge black and white photos
                                  of mosque restoration
along a corridor of murals
        a corridor of communist heroes

  jumping up and down on the spot
    in time to a band called Soft Cell,
papering the walls
             with posters of pink champagne,
re-registering on the electoral roll,
                        ah, the heady 80s

but later, tonight,
  knowing this is the last century
          of which I\'ll partake,
                  (my lassitude,
                      my disbelief, and
               mon dieu, my grief)
       I\'ll lie on the laboratory couch
(I\'m looking forward to it too)
marvelling
       at how my little egg doth pong

Lab face

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