Elly McDonald


Vertigo (1983)

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here, I am uneasy

this place is strange, this space

empty. This incubator, sterile compound.

your unit. Myself glimpsed

in glass (in fragments), a full-length window pane

Ghost image on a TV screen

you disturb me

the air –

so sharp it hurts, this high

vertigo –

you make my eyes smart

Far removed, a burglar siren jams

(you alarm me)

the heavy breathing of cars, below

you oppress

like a radio not quite tuned to the stations

a shadow pall –

a phone left off the hook

Author: Elly McDonald

Australian-born, with English mother, has lived in several Australian cities and in London. Travelled widely. Way way back when, published widely as a poet and short story writer.

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