3rd Prize Winner of the OSP Poetry Competition
Fat brown leather found poem
carryall behind glass at Berggasse 19 in Vienna –
47 years of work – his throat already rotting
as he smokes another cigar after dinner –
the handle almost worn through
(brass tackle for a tiny cathectic key) –
Islamic carpets – ebony carved masks –
scarlet velvet tapestries
covering all the comfy chairs
and a white-bearded ghost seated at the head
of the missing couch – books – papers – archival jot –
letters – a bevel-edged mirror
and a concealed door
through which analysands might leave discretely –
four sisters sent to concentration camps –
murdered – the house a museum since 1971 –
I once had a shrink mentor called Alex
who looked exactly like him
like somebody disappearing down the annexed
emergency staircase of trauma’s secret dreams –
fat brown leather found poem
carryall at Berggasse 19 – a Viennese genteel district –
47 years of work – throat already rotting
as he smokes another fat brown cigar
minding the dreams of Wolfman –
Anna echoing through framed and painted rooms –
restored interpretive clues –
the handle almost worn through
(brass tackle for a tiny tiny lost key) –
fat brown leather found poem –
born in 1856 in Moravia – living there until age 3 –
historical ground floor – mezzanine curtains
floating in the afternoon summer breeze –
Anna picked up by the Gestapo in 1938 –
pack up – hurry – escape – horror . . .
pince nez spectacles in a worn-out case –
Islamic carpets – elaborate cabinets –
crimson covering all the uncomfortable chairs –
a bearded ghost at the head of a missing couch –
books – papers – archival jot – letters – a mirror
near the window – a concealed door
through which analysands might leave –
discretely four sisters sent to concentration camps –
murdered – the house a museum since 1971 –
artefacts – mpingo African faces –
(I once had a shrink mentor called Alex
who looked exactly like his carryall) – architectural redo –
a frightened child disappearing down the annexed
emergency EXIT hush peace –
fat brown leather found poem bag of tricks
the kitchen sink and where the couch once was (now in London)
a deliberately empty space