consider the sovereign king ||{to be decided} Notes, not in pen notes inked in lips ||how many how heavy how to administer quick burial for||go mourning forget not remember. A ||task for the reasonable: to round up, {yes, good} whoever knows their own name, ||their own whereabouts, movements those present on the night of the big sink those present on|| the night of the first battle those present|| yesterday and today and tomorrow {yes} those claiming to reap and sow those willing|| to plow the living Certain things must be clarified. I am ||a healer I check my coat it is ||white insignia rationalis I look inside the doctor’s bag potions ||gleam the horizons fold promise {and the promise of promise} … ||into squares.. and these will be pulled from a hat.. for example, on my rounds|| there must be a record of this there must|| be a nurse, a matron, a muse, a shadow of benevolence or malevolence ||if equality counts a powder|| will be metered on the finger to the left nostril of it is not sand, although it|| is white a brief prescription to inhale|| as one would welcome dawn from the inner lips the freshest lily or enter|| fields devoted to white only life could come|| from the colour of blanching expunging of wringing denial here, ingest, imbibe|| this sweet elixir of {contents to|| be decided}.. with a modicum of calcified sawn off deadman’s bone as I see|| it, everyone will be in some way.. ||grateful what with that Sol behind me, as orderly as orderly I check. Sol’s|| gloom upon my white back I check. Round and|| round and round. I check. They call me Doctor.
[Chorus] The Vote
Ern. (looks down at the crowd). Order! Here, here! To order! I don’t want to|| have to raise my voice fair go Lope. Ern. Ern. Thanks. But I’d like to begin if|| you don’t mind… a quick intro…………. Dog. (groans)……. Ratchett. We want King! Where’s our bleedin’ King! ||Boyle. KingKingKingKingKingKingKingKingKingKingKingKing Jin. I’m sick. I’m going to be (wave) Rope Boy. Shut up. Shut up. Look at Dog, he’s quiet….. . Sol. Who’s in charge? 10 9 7 ||Quick or I’ll shoot! 5 4 2 Wills (sobs). One! Norma. Now look what you’ve done, it needs a mother’s touch. ||Chippie. Sing, go on love. That’ll bring some cheer…… Mon Suet.
Norma. I know a song it’ll be just the thing|| Chippie. Is it a sea ditty? Jin. It’s a dirge, coming from that mutton. ||Rope Boy. Keep it down. If dog can shut it… Dog. ……………..(yaps). Lope. Ladies and Gentlemen. Scruffs, insurgencies. Just|| two words meaning “rumour mill” If someone says scruff||, stop up your ears. Insurgency? Step away. Nothing happened last night. Nothing at all. . ||And if it did, my coat should be ……………………………………gut-red Boyle. That’s noice. I mean to think of all that || all that trouble we went to… Ratchett. Not to mention the hole in my boot. ||Mon Suet. None of this is interesting… Wills. (sobs)………. Ern. Gut red. Thanks Lope. Men, and other ||members of the Raft! Hi Ho Sol. Who speaks? (looks around) Answer me ||Who speaks hi ho? (raises gun) Mon Suet. The lame duck…the duck who put me in this twine || Boyle. He’s onto something. Ratchett. Imagine all that water going in. || The rot. Relentless…….. Wills. (sniffs)………
There’s a whiff
| 263