by Allan Lake
As a child my whole world was a village
in Saskatchewan. Home, school, shop.
Long cold winter? One per year as a rule.
Upon adulthood I discharged myself.
What if my whole world was now Emergency
Dept, Alfred Hospital, Melbourne, Australia?
Electric suns would always shine. White sheets
but no snow. People would unsoundly sleep
and I’d unplug myself before going to a WC,
a ‘water closet’ to possibly unplug myself.
Beeps would beep and dings would ding
at all hours and employees would bustle about.
Brownish liquid would impersonate coffee
and there might be mucky potato to dampen
any will to recover. Then there’s ‘fasting’ which,
upon reflection, seems willfully misnamed
as I watch my watch. Everyone vertical wears
‘sneakers’ and odd devices around their necks.
Everyone horizontal wears a ‘nighty’ (all day)
that reveals more than any person would reveal
if their whole world was, say, a shopping mall.
You feel special when rolled to ‘theatre’
(did the English run out of vocabulary?)
where they pierce/cut your this/that. Pain
then sleep then waking then other pain.
Gratitude optional. Gain something critical;
lose something lethal. One ‘patient’ vanished
in the ‘dead’ of night. Not your ‘business’.
Better not enquire. We adjust to our world,
as animals do, even elephants in a zoo.
Originally from Saskatchewan, Allan Lake has lived in Vancouver, Cape Breton Island, Ibiza, Tasmania and, for now, Melbourne. Collection: Sand in the Sole (2014). Lake won Lost Tower Publications (UK) Poetry Comp 2017 and Melbourne Spoken Word Poetry Festival Comp 2018. Besides Australia, he has been published in Canada, UK, USA, Mauritius, India, West Indies, Italy and Nigeria.
Interesting!
Thank you.