Asylum
Published in The Evergreen: A New Season in the North, Wordbank, UK, 2017.
This is madness alright, the biting heat and cut-glass
skies, the raucous shrieking of the lorikeets, crackling through
trees with their colours so bright it frightens
the mind. Through all of our days
the boss-eyed sun blisters and pops till
you’d swear the air was breathing. Petals of yellow
wattle and red dregs of bottle-brush gum froth
at path edges, the sun’s bloody heat scabbing round
your tongue. Some nights Molly can’t stand it
inside, sneaks out to sleep on the so-called lawn. I can just
see her running over burnt-brown grass, her bristling fists,
wrists tilted to the stars, mad moon slipped
to a Cheshire grin, map of a far life flapping
in her eyes. They find her in the morning, nightie
claggy round her thighs, eye-hollows filled
with puddles of dew. I’d buy her some dreams
if I could, for sure. I’d fill those hollows with
the rolling fog of home, little dun-coloured birds
I’d place in her hands, let her feel the soft flutter
of their grey English hearts. You and me Moll
I’m always saying to her, one day we’ll go
home. She doesn’t know what I’m on about
no more, picks at the roses embroidered on her
nightie, rolls her eyes like she’s still on the ocean
heading for some other crazy country.
Adelaide Asylum
The Adelaide Asylum was opened in 1852. In the late nineteenth century, many of the inhabitants were British immigrants who had struggled to cope with the demands of a new life in a country very different to their own. The asylum was situated near what was soon to be the East Gate of the Botanic Garden. It housed 60 patients plus staff but quickly reached capacity. Plans were made to build a new asylum, housing 200 patients, in Glenside.