a woman struggled
four men held her down
on the pavement
'let me go, let me go'
it was a kind of mantra
not urgent or beseeching
more a statement of fact
she seemed coherent
but sad, not even desperate
or emphatic
Marcel said she had a knife
or a piece of glass
Ben had blood splashes on his apron
he held a teatowel tight
as a tourniquet around her wrist
she twisted and bit
it started to rain
the pavement glittered
ran with oily rainbows
the chiropodist led
a fat woman away
her shoulders slumped
she dragged her feet
why do people limp
when there is nothing wrong
with their legs?
the chiropodist comforted her
i needed you here to make sense
of how these people
our neighbours
strangers passers by
those who try not to stare
from cars
fitted into this scene
no one else could tell me
the ambulance came
Gerald from the bikeshop
directed traffic
it took them ages to strap
her on the trolley
she fell off twice onto the road
bare dirty feet waving
kicking obliquely
no one dared be firm or rough
still she screamed
my ears strained for clues
hissed with horror and pain
Gerald the bikeshop
declined to gossip avoided
people's eyes
later I heard it was his daughter
having a Breakdown
in public.
Why weren't you there?
You would have known
what to do
what to say.
No comments:
Post a Comment