Cataract Operation Poem by Simon Armitage

Cataract Operation

Rating: 2.8


The sun comes like a head
through last night's turtleneck.
A pigeon in the yard turns tail
and offers me a card. Any card.


From pillar to post, a pantomime
of damp, forgotten washing


on the washing line.
So, in the breeze:

the olé of a crimson towel.
the cancan of a ra ra skirt,

the monkey business of a shirt
pegged only by its sleeve,

the cheerio
of a handkerchief.

I drop the blind
but not before a company

of half a dozen hens
struts through the gate,

looks round the courtyard
for a contact lens.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Oli Hudson 08 June 2021

What a trash poem

0 1 Reply
Oil Hudson 08 June 2021

It's so so

0 1 Reply
Michael Walker 16 August 2019

Quite humorous and witty, looking around the courtyard ' for a contact lens'.

1 0 Reply
Martin O'Neill 19 February 2012

This simply wonderful. The imagery and evocation of the momentary mental maziness that possess us as we detach from the logical day and really open our eyes.

5 3 Reply
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Simon Armitage

Simon Armitage

Marsden, West Yorkshire
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