Prose: Thank God for the NHS

Ferdinand Keller - Selene thrown down by Argus(1886)

Write what you feel. You know this song well. Write what you know. What have you learnt? How have I grown.I have grown outwardly, out of my flesh and further, right out of my mind and this letter marks my return. You spent the winter among the dead and dying, among the asleep, among the hazards. There were no flowers for your performance, no midnight moon walks either. You were among the hospital linen and the godly. The singers, the sadness and you had your own madness to keep you company. Mary Mary. How does the queen of Scot’s garden grow?

Mother Mary Magdalena-

your song was cut short the moment you told a wild man you loved him. No Tengboche monastery here. No red earth to walk on. Only the academics saw you.

So who saw me. Who cut through my glass walls? Koyaanitsqatsi, I will sing louder than solomon, than sheba. Koyaanitsqatsi, I screamed it, I stripped, I supervised when no one else was looking. I was cared for, cared for, looked after by the scottish and the londoners.

Thank god for the NHS.

I HAVE NO ASYLUM NOW. The world is my cake and I will savour it as long as I live.