1 Insanity Speaks

2

3 I am so close now

Before noon she lit the lamp.

Without respite, she just stands still and listens.

The demented wind outside mirrors her mind.

She is going to let me in.

Shrill voices rise in argument.

The baby wails with the wind.

Dust is everywhere. A mad wilderness…

The land is black.

She is going to let me in.

The eyes are glazed now.

The talon grazes her wing.

The eagle is unseeing.

Her eyes scare him; he flees.

She is going to let me in.

The wall is crumbling to the barren earth.

She keens inside while jiggling the child.

A sudden lull, an intake of breath.

Everything waits—the land is dead.

Desert, you fool!

4 She is mine…

mine…

mine….

So caged—The wall is dust--let free--

Staring eyes—distraught—the boy—she must--

Save him—take him away—the dust-mad wilderness.

Take him away.

She is mine.

Hold him tight—the dust will choke—

Pneumonia—fear obsesses her—so tired just carrying him—

Clutch him tight—face away from the wind—

Save him—save her.

I hold her tight within my grasp.

Hair flies in her face—can’t let go of him—

A vision—Paul—her hair, she must fix it—

He is clumsy with the child—She takes it, and he takes her.

The dawn is drawn apart in breathless waiting

I have her mind.

She cannot feel the cold of it.

She does not see the dust on its face.

She is blind, crazy, content,

Eyes wide in an immobile stare.

Mine.

Talia Ali MT, 2001