‘…And I mon waxë wod’
…And I must go mad
Screaming woman in
the museum gift shop,
distressed & jabbering
& weeping & howling
& red in the face gnashing,
in terrible pain & the world
cannot help her & we
all stand around, watching
& listening & discussing
& suggesting & unable
to help, & scared of her
pain & madness, her
red gnashing tear-stroked
face, & we can’t seem
to help her & nothing
that the world has done
to her can be undone,
we alone can’t stop her
madness or even understand
it, this new language of hurt
she’s screaming in, like a
child yet terribly adult,
some terrible wisdom showing
of what life is like, how sharp
it can be. We sit &
watch on hoping she tires
herself out, knowing that
we can’t undo what’s been
done to her, what it’s
done to us either.
Ezra Miles is a poet from London. His work has previously appeared in Tears in the Fence, Ink Sweat & Tears, Allegro Poetry and Poetry Pacific among other publications. He works in a museum as his day job.