Iron Lung is Noisy
By Ivor Griffiths

echoes ringing a buzzing silence
fills my head, with sentimental
dog toothed frayed disguises,
while fire and oil
elemental magnetic tapes
stuck on pause
perform dreams of glory in a Plaides star
rain acid inspired sounds above.
Arterial shrouds should electrify
but paralysed half my face
cold and numb, dribbling and twitching
hurry along the curdlers space
I've been lying here in a coma since
please open the dead bolt door
make ringing empty silence real.

Ivor Griffiths 2005
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