Poem – Stephanie de Montalk



You say the mind
will leave its shallow
convolutions and fissures

and enter the skin,
bone and irascible
fluid of the tympanic
organ of balance

to produce vertiginous
dreams and scenes
of high drama
on stairways
and small balconies;

that, filliped,
it will journey further –

sway in the whirl
and plume of the heart,
roll and whiten the eyes,
rustle the lungs,

clog the gimlet cove
of the kidney where,
bereft of its joystick
velocity and shapely
epithelial lining,

denied command
and control,

it will subvert biopsies
destabilise blood tests
and sabotage scans

with the verve of a tall ship
taking water.


Stephanie de Montalk

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