MY SECOND CYCLE OF WAITING

A poem from my fifth collection- The Wait of Water, if you would like a copy contact me. It's based on a fad of the 1800's, the public unwrapping of Egyptian mummies. I know you would think the great and good of Paris and London would have found something better to do with their spare time. But apparently not...

THE UNWRAPPING PARTY- Paris 1891

when I lay on my back not one day dead

having my brain extracted through my nose

while my guts were pulled out by the handful

and dumped into the jars at my feet

I did not foresee that my sleep would be disturbed

by anyone less than a God

I could even put up with the French interrupting my twilight

but to be labelled a minor figure

in the political structure of the Lower Kingdom

while accurate could have been phrased with more respect

this social event at which I

am the reluctant centre piece

makes no pretence at science which has come to replace religion

for these shallow individuals who do not know their own place in the cosmos

I am simply a sideshow that allows the good matrons of Paris to gasp in awe

as their high priest professor holds aloft each wrapping

as if he was revealing a universal truth

such enlightenment is beyond the banality of his words

which reveal more the shortcomings of his time than my life

afterwards I am consigned to lie under glass naked

having seen too much and in my second cycle of waiting

be ignored by the passers-by making their way to the gift shop

As I say it's all true, yet another example of the colonial mindset that has given us this world we live in. Better days are coming.

And a herald of those better days is the song Resilience by the wonderous Annabelle Chvostek.

Until next time.