24 November 2005

Goya, The Incantation.


              tongue gone dry
              naked behind a blue sheet
              mind woozy
              from whatever they
              shot me with

              count to ten, says
              the green surgical mask
              why don't you
              leave me
              alone -

              last, irrelevant
              before the world


              like an eyelid.
posted by Gilbert at Thursday, November 24, 2005


Blogger Gilbert Koh said...

Hi Orso,

In case you're reading this - just wanted to let you know that I can't comment on your blog because you've done something and now only "team members" can comment.

November 24, 2005  
Blogger Cocaine Jesus said...

thanks for the madness that brought you to my site! i see that we have another fine poet amongst us.
good stuff.

November 24, 2005  
Blogger Cocaine Jesus said...

PS.This resonates with me as I had to have a tiny op last year and this poem is right on the button!

November 25, 2005  
Blogger Gilbert Koh said...

Lucky you. I had a *major* op. :)

I think that this is a "limited appeal" poem. If you've never actually had the experience of going under general anaesthetic, it would be a bit difficult to appreciate this poem.

November 27, 2005  
Blogger misunderstood_1 said...

Cocaine Jesus,
What a name! I can't say that I really like it. But the sad thing is I understand it. All the passion you get from writing, is there a real source to it?

December 02, 2005  

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