Against the Graine

by Michelle Burke
 
Filling the bucket with soapy water
that spills over the edges
and smells of lemons
my rubber covered hands
grip the rim as weakened legs
shake and wobble with lack
of co-ordination
 
seconds earlier retching
and kneeling on the floor
unable to control the purging
and spitting when migraine comes
without warning and tells the brain
to perform uncommon acts 
on vascular entities 
deep within my body
 
mother with cold cloths 
that feel like storm rain
on my face and must have
been hanging inside a
meat locker for twenty 
hours at sub-zero
temperatures
 
eagle beaks of throbbing pain
clutch at hollow eyes
with just enough intensity
to ensure I stay fully conscious
and savour its pulsating rhyme
beating a tattoo against 
my skull bones
 
zigzag lights everywhere
half-faces and scattered words
on boxes of tissues and
cigarettes I feel like smoking
but can’t find the necessary
co-ordination to join lips and filter
 
the slow, inching return to normal
as faces become visible against 
drawn curtains that let tiny light
slivers into the room
I light a cigarette
sip coffee and remark 
that recovery is better 
than a vacation

© 2005 by Michelle Burke. All rights reserved.

Michelle Anne Burke is a freelance writer and poet from Cape Town, South Africa. She writes poetry, inspirational essays and non-fiction. Recent poetry publishing credits include poems published in The Texas Poetry Journal and Mind Mutations, an anthology. She is inspired by the human experience and believes that to write poetry is to tell stories, confront demons and connect with the truth.