Clinic

about treatment I needed some years ago

Fogs of ghosts carry souls in buckets.

With steps in dance and many hands

they polish your armour and

hammer you back together.

They throw you out of glass rooms

back to your old door; you fruitcake,

you mad hatter, you looney,

back to the grey street, you have

long enough babbled at

an empty ring of chairs.

You spin too slowly not to tip over,

your cranium scrubbed, your bones trepanned,

your new smile fixed with wire.

Reviews

[Coyote Song]

Very creative poem, powerful imagery in this. Makes me shiver.....

[Rosalind Gale]

Excellent Leslie, as ever. You are a favorite of mine, not just here, anywhere. A clash of ideas, a fright, and a sly image. Your poems and crafting so often appear effortless.
Rosalind
-x-

[Lyn Anderson]

This is a fantastic piece. Vivid imagery, cleverly laid out, with a grin at the end.:)

[Jeremy Baker]

This gave me the shivers, Leslie; so close to my own experiences that I may not get the lid back on in a hurry. Masterful expression, all the more impressive given the subject matter. Thank you for sharing =)

[Leslie Philibert]

I was in a clinic some years ago, and also work with young people who have mental health probems.Thanks for the kind words, from someone who is a fine poet.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

As always Leslie you express emotions in such eloquent words. It is always such a privilege to read your masterfully crafted poetry. This one I can relate to having been a Heath professional most of my life.

[Leslie Philibert]

Thanks for the kind words, you understand what I am trying to say..