OPPOSITE FREUDBANK.

A WOMAN AND HER PSYCHOLOGIST.

Come in Miss Broston and sit down or lie
On the couch over there if you wish I
Don’t mind whichever is best for you and

You wander into Doctor Freudbank's room
With its blue walls and framed certificates
And bourgeois paintings and sit in the black

Chair opposite his desk that reminds you
Of the big desk in your father’s study
Where he used to sit most days and if you’d

Been a bad girl he’d have you sit in front
Of him looking at you over the desk
With his big dark eyes and lecture you on

The things your mother said you had done
Or not done or reports he had from the
Teachers or nuns at the school and as the

Freudbank guy sits behind his desk and opens
His mouth to speak you notice a small gold
Filling in one of his teeth and for some

Reason it reminds you of a photo
You’d seen once of some Jew who was being
Taunted by some Nazis and you later

Read how they removed all the gold fillings
In the concentration camps and for a
Short moment as you sit there opposite

Freudbank ignoring what he is saying
You wonder if any of his Jewish
Relations ended up in Auschwitz or

Belsen or elsewhere and you sit back in
The chair and feel the cold leather almost
Send sharp pins into the nerves of your spine

And still he is yapping on and his lips
Are opening and closing like a big
Naked anus and you remember as

A girl that you used to sit opposite your
Father as he gave his moralistic
Lectures on your bad behaviour and

The threats to have you severely punished
You used think the same then as his lips
Opened and closed and that child’s memory

Overrides the deep depression of the
Moment and brings a small smile to your face
As Freudbanks’s gold filling glitters in the

Light of the naked bulb on his ceiling
And his voice drones on like a fly on a
Summer’s day bringing on the sick feeling.