Gedicht
Pam Brown
Rehab for Everyone
Rehab for Everyone
Rehab for Everyone
hands so coldfingers cold
tucked under legs
sitting in insect hiss
low white noise
gas heater undertone
no other sound
nothing
almost asleep,
a car pulling up the hill
a currawong
does that shrill thing
into pink air
a huge open yawn
almost breaks my jaw
the pen that makes the marks
alters the angles of the letters
a patch
of yesterday’s chocolate
stuck to my corduroy sleeve –
a signal
imagined and interpreted
we look back
at the years in the tops
waiting to be taken out of time
red brick
wall map of Australia
grass green carpet
mustard coloured plastic chairs
clumpy piling on the mittens
mitts on the keyboard
pushing thoughts and jingles
out
to Dublin to Seattle,
Adelaide, Kane'ohe,
Faversham, Glebe
sadly notating dim trivia
me-minus-you
outside community
literary festivals
can’t help anyone
like a rehab book sale
making mistakes,
so different
from being morally wrong
in an unsettling world
it’s a rabbit life,
built the walls from Castrol cases
black tyre ribbons
strewn
like a giant’s licorice
under the striated cutting
siding on the highway,
say goodbye
to the Woodford bends
sometimes the clunky
can incandesce
but I want to know
how to vitalize gawkiness,
sometimes
I’m in my no-mind sometimes
in a technological mindlessness
sometimes nowhere near limber,
although that’s unusual
some people
just float along all the time
accumulating the placid
sometimes
when you think you’re going down
you’re not,
you’re going straight ahead
to a utopia of modernity.
© 2009, Pam Brown
Publisher: First published in Parthenon West Review,
Publisher: First published in Parthenon West Review,
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Gedichten van Pam Brown
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Rehab for Everyone
hands so coldfingers cold
tucked under legs
sitting in insect hiss
low white noise
gas heater undertone
no other sound
nothing
almost asleep,
a car pulling up the hill
a currawong
does that shrill thing
into pink air
a huge open yawn
almost breaks my jaw
the pen that makes the marks
alters the angles of the letters
a patch
of yesterday’s chocolate
stuck to my corduroy sleeve –
a signal
imagined and interpreted
we look back
at the years in the tops
waiting to be taken out of time
red brick
wall map of Australia
grass green carpet
mustard coloured plastic chairs
clumpy piling on the mittens
mitts on the keyboard
pushing thoughts and jingles
out
to Dublin to Seattle,
Adelaide, Kane'ohe,
Faversham, Glebe
sadly notating dim trivia
me-minus-you
outside community
literary festivals
can’t help anyone
like a rehab book sale
making mistakes,
so different
from being morally wrong
in an unsettling world
it’s a rabbit life,
built the walls from Castrol cases
black tyre ribbons
strewn
like a giant’s licorice
under the striated cutting
siding on the highway,
say goodbye
to the Woodford bends
sometimes the clunky
can incandesce
but I want to know
how to vitalize gawkiness,
sometimes
I’m in my no-mind sometimes
in a technological mindlessness
sometimes nowhere near limber,
although that’s unusual
some people
just float along all the time
accumulating the placid
sometimes
when you think you’re going down
you’re not,
you’re going straight ahead
to a utopia of modernity.
Rehab for Everyone
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