"mongolian" poems - Hello Poetry

She knows she’s in the sepia photograph but doesn’t remember why or who the others are or why she dressed as she did back then or why there was a dog there at the front she keeps the photograph tucked between the pages of the black Bible some clergy gave her and a dark secret she was forbidden to tell and sometimes that short woman with the Mongolian features steals it to gawk at then she has to go get it back sometimes violently which brings the nurses running with their rough hands and strait jackets or that skinny woman who always stares takes hold of it and stares at it pointing to the various faces of the males and females and at the dog and smiles and wets herself and then laughs loudly which causes the other inmates to bellow or laugh or cry or scream bringing the nurses trotting with their what’s going on? or what’s all this then? she holds the photograph to her ***** when she can or tries to remember who they all are staring back at her including herself and when the quacks question her about the photo as to who is who or why she has kept it she doesn’t have a clue and one said she ought not to have it as it disturbed her but a nice nurse (and there were some) said o no doctor she needs that there will be hell to pay if she doesn’t have it tucked between the pages of the Good Book she kisses herself some days talks to one or two of the others there but who they were or to whom she speaks she doesn’t know and on cold wintery days she looks toward the sun for a message or a warming glow.

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Feb 16, 2013

Feb 16, 2013 at 5:09 AM UTC

terry-collett

THE SEPIA PHOTOGRAPH.

She knows she’s in the sepia photograph but doesn’t remember why or who the others are or why she dressed as she did back then or why there was a dog there at the front she keeps the photograph tucked between the pages of the black Bible some clergy gave her and a dark secret she was forbidden to tell and sometimes that short woman with the Mongolian features steals it to gawk at then she has to go get it back sometimes violently which brings the nurses running with their rough hands and strait jackets or that skinny woman who always stares takes hold of it and stares at it pointing to the various faces of the males and females and at the dog and smiles and wets herself and then laughs loudly which causes the other inmates to bellow or laugh or cry or scream bringing the nurses trotting with their what’s going on? or what’s all this then? she holds the photograph to her ***** when she can or tries to remember who they all are staring back at her including herself and when the quacks question her about the photo as to who is who or why she has kept it she doesn’t have a clue and one said she ought not to have it as it disturbed her but a nice nurse (and there were some) said o no doctor she needs that there will be hell to pay if she doesn’t have it tucked between the pages of the Good Book she kisses herself some days talks to one or two of the others there but who they were or to whom she speaks she doesn’t know and on cold wintery days she looks toward the sun for a message or a warming glow.