Bird: And Other Writings on Epilepsy
Annotation. Birds don't fly with leads, I said. / Safety belts are to learn with, not to live with -- / I'm safer on the trapeze than crossing the road. / And I do that every day, often by myself. So thirteen-year-old Avis argues when confronted by the limitations imposed on her at school. She has epilepsy and some of the teachers want to stop her from participating in the sport she loves most. From societal limitations to the inner experience of seizures, Susan Hawthorne's poetry takes the reader on a journey rarely recorded. Physical injury, memory loss, explorations of consciousness and language are the concerns of the poet.
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The language in my tongue
Meditation on Falling
arms Avis big red balloon bird black hole blue body Books brain breath catchers Chris White close your eyes Coloured convulsion cracked CyberFeminism dance Dream moon electrical empty Epilepsy epileptic Eurydice eyes open face Falling Woman feel finger fit or seizure flashes fracture frothing Gabriella Gillian Spraggs Grand mal grey matter hanging happened head Hell and back kind of fit knocked language caught inside learn the trapeze legs lifted looked memory milk bar miniature death Mother mouth muscles night Okay old woman open your eyes phosphorescent poem Poetry pull Quick quivers Renate Klein rise Rosemary safety belt saw eternity Seized serpent sitting skin sleep slept spasm speak Spinifex starfish staring strange Susan Hawthorne swinging Sydney synapse is firing things thousand suns turn unconsciousness underworld void waiting wake watching woke woman in black words to answer world egg yellow