Saturday, 23 May 2015

The Queen Of Sins Forgotten

By Rory A.A. Hinton

"For a man needs only to be turned around once with his eyes shut in this world to be lost ... Not til we are lost ... do we begin to find ourselves." (Thoreau)

I close my eyes
As she turns me around
And around, and back again.
We dance to the daily
Game show jingles,
As the crowds cheer us on
Into the next commercial break.
Then the dizziness, and I see them
Walking past the fortified doors.
We don't get visitors here.

I recall seeing this before,
In a foreign pediatric ward,
My little white hands
On the big wooden rods
Staring behind the cribbed bars,
While three familiar strangers
(They say I know, but not quite)
Turn a sharp corner
And vanish out of sight.
We don't get visitors here.

I recall their absence
On a regular basis now
From the sewer of shadows
Cast by Penny Wise:
Grinning death on the psychiatric floor.
This feminine l'elephant terrible,
This task mistress shaming me
Into chilling secrecy
Over natural body functions.
We don't get visitors here.

I recall them stripping me naked,
Throwing me into a tiled corner,
And then spraying me frozen
With that industrial hose.
I am my house on fire.
My kingdom for the Queen
Of sins forgotten ...
... water, water everywhere.
(A poem suddenly remembered).
We don't get visitors here.

I recall my history
Slowly reduced down
To a medicated guess.
Turning around again,
With my eyes wide open,
First found, then lost
Inside Walden's forest.
If I had a knife,
I would cut its throat.
But we don't get cutlery here.