In the hospital corridors, bad art hangs
awkward as husbands who try to buck up
their dying. Stiff, by the snack machine,
a life-size dancer looms en pointe, contorts
her unscarred body. Opposite, the sea
on paper stretches out and stops, just short
of a size 10 bootprint stamped on the wall.
Yesterday, there was even a chicken
in Radiography, photographed twice —
first as an auburn bird in a field, next
as an x-ray version, gone queasy blue,
picking its way over nuclear heath —
before and after. Today, results,
and this waiting room with its vacant walls,
its sighing vents — an installation piece,
complete with miniature letterbox
labelled in bold, Suggestions, please. I think
I'd like a Rembrandt, for those who wait,
so someone will at last return our gaze
the Dutch-brown way a dog who loves us might,
or maybe, if we've space enough in here,
a print by that woman who daubed herself
in gold, then sprang at the canvas, saving
the one moment she managed to fly.
Christy Ducker lives in Northumberland. She recently completed a PhD at Newcastle University, researching and writing poems about the Victorian lighthouse-keeper, Grace Darling. Christy works as a teacher of creative writing. Her poetry commissions include residencies for Port of Tyne and English Heritage.
Follow the link for a list of other Poems of the Month.
Suggestions, please © 2015 Christy Ducker: used with permission.
Copyright of this poem remains with the poet: please do not download or republish without permission.