Poetry

Strange little boy

24 March 2020

they call you

  Strange, little boy.

  in legoland you broke down

  like our little tin car

  kicking crying

  words failing 

  so:

       they had to pull us out.

                                                         tell me why?

  flashing lights smiling dolls crowding people

                        dark room 

                                        voices like screams 

               battering rams                    pounding pounding

  unstrange children love theme parks. 

  a woman said

           he’s not coping take him out 

  like it was our fault,

  I whisper

                                                   they don’t know.  

 

they call you 

  Sick, darling boy. 

  a chronic disease

                  pathogen deep

                  blood 

                  mind 

  there is no cure.

  you get 

              symptoms

                               medical reports

                          therapy 

                                    check-ups for      

              government funding 

  it’s all inside, it makes you 

  shriek at

  rough fibres of new clothes

                          spiders on skin.

 

they call you

  Slow, dearest boy. 

  you cannot 

  paint or do maths

  like they say your kind can

  but:

        you read

        a hundred books 

        name a thousand things

                                     planets

                                                     jupiter

                                                     saturn 

                                                     uranus 

                                                     neptune

    satisfied in your universe.

no eye contact

                       attention 

                                     speech

lying on belly

rustling pages

so calm but     

                                                are you happy?

 

they call you 

  Disabled

                Difficult 

                            Different

                                          Special.

 

  Alone you

                                                                   Sit on the playroom mat, my 

                                                                   Dear.

 

they think you 

  so so so so 

  Strange


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *