Torture In The Suburbs
The quivering form of an elderly lady
Crouches inside a large disused fireplace.
Her wrinkled hands are tightly clasped over her ears
As her heart beats rapidly
In a chest that convulses with pain.
A whimpering, quivering dog presses against her.
A mattress covers the entrance to the fireplace
To deaden the torture of the grinding,
Repetitive, invasive sound intruding from outside.
She is not in Iraq or Afghanistan
Or any other war zone,
But in a quiet Tasmanian suburb,
As she tries to escape the sounds and vibrations
Of her neighbour’s menacing,
Manicuring, grinding manufacturing machines.
© Judy Brumby-Lake
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment