notes towards an operation                                                             
             
                  
                       let my solitude see me off
 a woman’s voice in the next room
 hard as it may seem
                       I celebrate life in a blue room
 awaiting laparatomy
                      ‘cos there is a big lump in my belly
 like a watermelon 
                  said an orderly
 elated and 
 mildly sedated
  
              
                  all is well
 like camus said
                 at dawn before the firing squad
  
  
 readiness is all
                the whole world and one’s own 
                 past and future 
 balled into one moment’s intensity
 of perception
                 when I cease to care
 what either might hold in store





  
  
 allegory of the cave

  
 midwife of ideas 
                    snug in dark moist cavernous womb 
 suckled by the acheron 
 a tiny cell with a flea-infested mattress
 veritable prisoner in mind 
                   stillborn into allegory of a shady reality
 many lifetimes ago
 flickering from shackles onto the wall
 bulbous shapes hard to make out
  
 come out come out wherever you are
 o sole mio
                    into the bright sun
 under which nothing is new
 yet strangely seen for the first time
                  a recurrent dream
 running freely through tall yellow grass 
 barefoot
 with solar bliss warm on skin
                 interrupted by distant intermittent scream
 cover her face, mine eyes dazzle 
 if only she had died young and beautiful
            under torture 
 blindfolded into shame and surrender
  
 not be subjected to her image now 
 reflected on a store window
 taken aback with the sudden confrontation
                        who is that fat old lady staring at me
 a walking shadow
 shell of a bygone era of Ideas 
  
 tea leaves dry up 
                    in the cup
 why does every potted plant 
                   have to die on me

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