Her ears twitch towards the open window.
Syntax rivers and moans. Single orbicular
words: my name: Jo or, suddenly, Picasso.
Scenes take place:
An albino squirrel hovers on a shady footpath -
a wild horse bucks - Delacroix - Penelope -
on the bix - Mid Somer Murders - centuries
of thinking all boiled in the silver kettle -
whistles right up to the wake - those left.
Now hushed, numbed in sleep on the home's
death bed, faintly beautiful in satin pleats
of her nightie; the pretty young nurse combs
her wiry hair, moistens her mouth edges
with water. The blackbird's call reaches
the bed sheets turn morphine green, coughs
bubble from her throat, eyes jolt black, skin
fractures, veins fill with a final injection of
colour: life explodes in a carnival of feathers.