Dodo

Surrounded by yellow patterns

Shaking night and day

The healthy are on prescribed for their madness who see the sun as gift and delight

We creep in streets and in malls, in schools and in offices

At least for myself I can creep more freely, unbound by punishments dodo knew

Locked up in cages, unoccupied, like larks pride from forests for a grotesque study

I can profess in my world the honest horrors of existing in shackles and face praise for my bravery

How I wish I could have creeped beside dodo, who would’ve understood why the pattern moved

Neither her nor hordes of others were blessed with families with ears and hearts behind their walls

She remained languid in her chamber, views of Ponoka between bars, with grandchildren who carried her image through nightmares and regrets

What was her tournament?

Absence of a pen?

No paints to colour time?

No stage to raise her hands?

She could’ve been free, making her husband pass out and creeping over him without delay (at last!)

Dear innocents! Madness is but a clear view!

The walls are putrid! Society too!

We shouldn’t know cages when we carry bigger truths

The key to depression’s door is acquiring value

Dodo was a prophet with no soapbox for to stand, but if I could have known her we’d have creeped hand in hand

Or perhaps I’d prefer not to say what could have very well been the case: despite our similarities perhaps I would’ve feared her face

I’d like to think that if I made it to Ponoka’s mental hospital we would have sat together and talked about it all

Written by: Sarah C Louise