This poem is taken from PN Review 147, Volume 29 Number 1, September - October 2002.
Cefn HirgoedIn the Fever Hospital
I come out of the wood
with my head on fire
And my mother places her nurse's hand upon my brow
and my father sits me down in the rocking chair
And asks, did you see the animals,
did you see the animals?
But all I know is the sunlight
is already turning to ashes in my head
And there is a steel reinforcing rod
pushing through the hollow of my spine
And I cannot speak
so they put me in a room behind a glass wall
Where I sleep and cry out
because there is the weasel
With his magician's white gloves
and there the viper
And out in the fields the cars are arriving,
...
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