The Straps and the Electric
The winter sun was going down and she watched it out the window.
Light like shards of glass,
time had melted.
It took hold.
She was held down by brown leather straps and she couldremember the smell of incense and little hands and little eyes
of an infant cold on the bed.
She tried to sit up
and the leather straps dug into her wrists.
She wanted to be a psychic.
"The others must be evicted from my body,"
she screamed, "they have come to haunt me."
She could hear their muffled voices,
telling her something.
She could hear a constant banter,
over and over again.
She was an orchid,
a camellia.
She was a banana.
She was a crazy banana;
muffled then loud,
with a rhythm like the waves.
The nurse said,
"Calm down dear, you will make nothing better
this way."
He brought her flowers for Valentine's Day;
red roses and three white ones to represent
the children:
Alice, Jacob, and Sam.
One, two, three,
ring around the roses,
one, two, three,
ring around the roses
so dead,
one, two, three,
ring around the roses,
so dead.
She lay like a lamb.
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Other stories by Agnes Ezra Arabella
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Beautiful, exquisitely sad.
Thanks Dianne! This poem is based on a true story that recently happened in my hometown.
Powerful. And like Dianne said, exquisitely sad.*
Thank you Tim!
An imaginative and visceral narrative: the restraint within the grip of the leather straps is frightfully palpable.
Good work.
Thank you Strannikov!
"She was an orchid,
a camellia.
She was a banana.
She was a crazy banana;
muffled then loud,
with a rhythm like the waves."
Scary piece because it comes across as very real. Well done. The ending is effective and powerful.
*
The repetition at the end is effective. Entire piece is good in my eyes.
Thank you, Sam and Eamon!