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Hepatitis Remembered
by Martin Bennett
(Kaduna/ Riyadh, 1979-1999)
Funny how an illness that turns urine
To black tea, eyeballs to last year's eggs,
And the thorax to some beige-veiled basket
Should now bring back pleasant memories:
However far inland, the sanitarium
Creaked like a ship on a smooth wide sea,
Me still somewhat queasy on its upper deck,
Walkway outside echoing nurses' footsteps.
Like the propeller of a Sopwith Camel
A fan whirred overhead, from tropical heat
Conjuring short-range zephyrs. Hard by,
A Shanks Diplomat with its wooden seat;
Beyond the sun-peeled, half-opened shutters
Bluish-leafed flametrees ablaze by day.
Come nightfall, sweet thick scent of frangipani
Stoking feverish visions of Mata Hari,
Ava Gardner, my dear Marie Ngo Kobla.
And no more classes for weeks, maybe months,
Lesson-bells and time-tables in abeyance -
Prescribed idleness! Lethargy by order!
Then when things got too unadventurous
Or boring, the French patient in the next bed
And his intrepid wife smuggling me away
For an illicit Chinese dinner;
Sneaking back in past the starch-white backs
Of fierce duty nurse, watch-medalled matron -
A myriad different-coloured tablets
Left standing, grim prognosis up-ended.
"Hepatitis Remembered" is copyright © 2000 by Martin Bennett. All Rights Reserved.
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