Poetry and Advocacy Mix

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 MacArthur House

One dives deep and not come up

knowing this, the shift commences

peeling off bodies whilst walking the hall’s cold linoleum floor with the accusing and growling rodents beneath. ,

The master key that jangles and cools a back pocket opens all doors

whist residents barely hold theirs to their only room housing

toiletries, a stuffed toy, a mound of clothes dirty and cleaned intermingling,

mouldy mattresses, stained and broken furniture.

Yes the women who love each other

have been taught to do otherwise,

divided when manipulated, neglected and left bereft

walking ghosts wishing to fit in with the dead.

How the medication men squirm when

safely housed these women are sensuous in each other’s arms.

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