
Surge-ons Urge
At the root of man is the sexual urge
You can deny and condemn
It’s there it lingers in wait for the future
no stronger and more potent does it live than in the loins of a surgeon
It is disguised don’t confuse potency with exposure
Lying on that surface close controlled welling
it breaks through the skin
cutting into the mind arrested by the brain digging in with the
sabre
Each cut and prod probing deeper down
into darknesses foray
Holding on tight to life seizing and sensing this luscious red flow
Only they can know the brutal urgency within and without
Once the foil is down they would lie wait cool control orgasmic let the urge abate
start over again with the épée
Succumb Time emc AOD 10.30 11.11.2016
The Seirenes are coming
Dead! Dying. What is my mind on about, she thought.
That’s what is happening : it’s curtains, get it together and take action. It made no sense dying from what? When? How? Why?
The journey to the Dr’s was an intense overriding of bodily attention versus mind control: the mind won.
Calmly driving into the parking area in front of the doctor’s surgery, no spaces, only a handicapped spot.
Damn it. What now ‘would you just park there’ the mind said.
‘God my car will be towed they better make it quick’.
Locking the car door she made her way to the surgery.
She pushed her way through the entrance, bent over with a prehensile hand on the banister she dragged herself to the top, through the doors: ‘Please’, she said ‘I need to see a doctor’.
Two women stared back at her one said
‘I’m afraid there is no one free until 11.30’.
‘Ok well I’ll have to wait here as I can’t go any further’ she said.
Feeling immolated she cowered and dragged herself to a chair. She felt sick.
There was nothing from the brain-the mind or the body. Silence. Sitting she slumped forward.
Tired.
Within a minute she heard: ‘Hi Siobhán follow me’.
Unsure if she could support herself she felt weak kneed, her eyes blurry she saw the Dr glance back, as if he half expected her to fall over. She followed him. Would she make it?
Her back was killing her. The pain was intense and inexpressible.
Given a guess some strong pain killers will kill it.
Sitting down her head bowed there was no energy to hold it up
‘Ok where is the pain’ he said.
‘In my back’.
‘Right’.
‘Would you hop up there and I’ll take a look’
Unsteady she hauled herself over to the examination table.
She lay down it felt good
Her head felt fuzzy and her eyes started to close she wanted to sleep.
She could feel a stethoscope on her chest and her head fell to the side.
Blood pressure was taken.
‘Can you tell me between 1 and 10 the pain you feel?’ a voice said.
Seven maybe 8.
Silence.
From then on death was hovering-
‘see body’ mind said.
How could you be and not be at the same time. Nothing was registering. She felt safe but otherworldly. Degree by degree nothing made sense why wasn’t anyone talking to her. Was she dead now. She felt ……………nothing……drifting……..away….. she was conflicted right there with the moving world. Glad.
He got up and made a call. It was in whispered tones and she couldn’t make a word out. Couldn’t have cared either way. Words wouldn’t come she was now struck deaf and dumb.
Open your mouth and chew this tablet now lift your tongue she felt a spray on it. And another spray.
He made another call.
A nurse appeared at her side she put the wires on her chest.
No conversation.
She felt so tired, for some reason there were no thoughts in her head and no questions to ask she didn’t have the energy or the brain power. The body lay there.
Was this an augury of what was to come?
‘ok Siobhán open your mouth and chew on these tablets’
‘open your mouth lift your tongue’
he sprayed water into her mouth.
Two men appeared some chit chat with the doctor-then they spoke to her.
With an out of body willingness she went with their requests.
‘Now we are going to put this around you’,
A foil cape caressed her body
‘now just sit down here in the wheelchair’.
‘We are going to take you downstairs’.
Even while this was going on all conceptual thoughts vanished. She has some temporary stress related locked in syndrome. Nothing showed up on the perceptual side of her brain, nothing in the logical.
Nothing or no one hinted at anything. The men seemed jovial even. ‘You’re ok, don’t worry’.
She couldn’t.
Why couldn’t she muster up a question? Talk. Say something. Ask! Jesus what’s wrong with me? Blank.
‘Don’t worry your in good hands’.
In the ambulance there wasn’t a hint of anything? Being fed tablets, her blood pressure taken, spray is sprayed, rustling and wires, talk, questions, mask over her face all went quiet.
Confusion.
The sirene’s song played.
What lay ahead she couldn’t imagine!
Nothing could prepare her. Her body and mind had now separated to such a degree that language and sensation made no sense.
Let’s go.
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