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Georgina Yael Johnson

madness -
wreckless projection,
at least I learned to own it,
the empty spaces where feeling
doesn't happen, just a voidish haze-
bereaved gap haunting word and meaning,
yes, dear, at dinner it seems I am bewildered.
certainly, you are sane, limping thru ownership.
i notice how you                 would frame fragility
using lies, denial,                       or forgetting how
that look bothers                       you, blushing face
innocent cheek,                             clustering chin;
as you assume                              your importance,
escaping with                             that stoic upper lip,
until, sitting on                             a dark cushion of
purple rage, the                           cheeky child spills
a coke unknowing                      and you, combusting
with spluttering rage,                school-boy punch her,
chair-shuffling hush falls on the steak, carrots accusing
you uphold the sunday times - emotionally pleasing,
sanctuary of sanity, bastion of the tall, with upright
reliable chaps: government, state and law...
and there it's written in british ink-
how to behave and think...
and our boys taught
terrorists a lesson,
they will never

From The Journal 14 (Autumn 2005)