In Fear Of Losing A Voice

In Fear Of Losing A Voice
(to Mr Mandela)

test it daily till the stones crumble
at frequencies that shudder bricks;

that dust'll settle on your skin
(your spine a brush broom
already stiff as fish bones).

Scar a hundred knuckles on stone
and bloody each fingernail too.

Scream till the walls crumble
Scream blue as Haematomas.
This is an ugly colour.

Bubble soap bars as dawn shrills
and dream of sunburn and pills,

happy, happy pills so creamy
and taste fades . . . .

Then test your voice again
for the years your knuckles forgot.