Thursday, 18 September 2014
A new poem. Feel free to share it with young or old...
The Whooshing Sound
The doctor asked me to sit still
and then he handed me
a thing that looked a bit like a plug
and asked me to put it over my bellybutton.
I did that.
Then he attached a tube to the plug
and switched on a machine.
There was a whooshing sound.
For a while nothing happened
but then I started to feel my belly
‘You’ll feel your belly swelling up,’
the doctor said.
‘Yes,’ I said.
It felt a bit like having a tight belt on
or maybe having a bit too much to eat.
‘It may feel a bit like having a tight belt on,
or having a bit too much to eat,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ I said.
I went on swelling up
and I started to feel light,
as if I wasn’t sitting so heavily in the chair.
The machine went on making the whooshing sound.
Then, very slowly, very gently,
I found myself lifting off the chair.
‘Were you expecting this to happen?’
‘Yes and no,’ the doctor said.
‘What happens when it’s a no?’
‘Oh...sometimes, it leaks,’
‘I’m in the air,’ I said.
‘Yes,’ he said.
I was floating round the room.
‘Oh,’ he said,‘did I weigh you?’
‘No,’ I said.
‘It’s a bit late now,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I wouldn’t know how to come down
from up here and stand on the scales.’
‘What’s your date of birth?’ he said.
‘Is my date of birth the same as my birthday?’
The window was open.
I looked out.
I don’t know if it was because I looked
or if it was because of the way the wind
but I found myself drifting towards the window.
‘I think I’m floating out of the window,’
‘What did you say was your date of birth?’
‘I am floating out of the window,’
‘Is it, the 4th of June 19..?
I didn’t catch the rest
I was out the window and
too far off.
Too far away.