Black Ticket Poem by MARINA GIPPS

On a night of the deepest stillness,
a medicine cabinet had shown
the labyrinthian melancholy of stars.

In a victorian shadowbox, an evil juggler's head.
The light of cities trapped within bottles.
Poisonous abodes appearing to be hemlock;

Precious in their multitude of yeast thriving
microbes they held captive: bottle of Cephalexin:
'Juana B. Palacios, Take one, four times daily.'

She swallowed an unknown future.
The rash travelled around her waist.
* 'Cuando da la vuelta se muere.'*

Laid down to rest, no pills save her
from the leprosy that had become
her shrouded final hours.

Closing the mirror of the cabinet,
a little breath sighs as a tiny death.
My eyes hold a continuous bridge.

Random objects cloistered in prisms of light,
a referrent for the afterworld.
Prescription: long expired.



* upon completing its turn, one dies.