Wednesday, 3 February 2010

re POEM 11

Sleep apnoea

an irregularity of nature;
an endless mare stealing
sleep, that is before the apparatus
the size of a 1980’s cassette player
became a part of us,


humming mask
intrudes on nuptial nook
regulating shallow breathing,
no longer shaking the walls
of cerebral drama,


a different visitor -
but where is the choice
between the two? I ponder,
as a strange scent of roasted corn
fills the room, mingles with the dramatics
of machine and man
falling into sleep’s well.

Catherine Mark

1 comment:

lissa said...

I get the sense that the narrator is somewhat in between states of sleep and awareness of being asleep

but it's quite a trip reading this