Petrified at Every Turn
by Susan McCaslin
From wheelchair row the view can be grim.
You swallow the horse pill of the world sitting down.
A whiskey's what I mostly need,
she said, cryptic, bemused.
This is finally the loosening of words
as when a child is everything
before all divisions and theories.
Nothing matters now but the whispered transmissions.
The eye is the same, mandala of the eye.
Cat tiptoes by, sentient, unconcerned.
These are the proverbs of Phyllis
At Crossroads Retirement Center:
Watch your words. Never
Put your faith in a sphinx.
Beware of chocolates.
Sometimes they shoot bolts of electricity
that blunder around the room.
Don't worry about me,
I'm sitting in the Mercy Seat.
This poem originally appeared in Canadian Literature #172 (Spring 2015), Auto / biography. (pg. 91)
MLA: McCaslin, Susan. CanLit Poets: "Petrified at Every Turn" by Susan McCaslin. canlit.ca. Canadian Literature, 2 Oct. 2008. Web. 27 Mar. 2015.