CUSHIONS
at the adelaide rape crisis centre/ there were a lot
of women punching cushions/
puffed up women on flat
brown cushions/ white & cream cushions that need
dry cleaning/
skin coloured cushions for a woman
breast feeding/ & paisley design for fashionable
women/
i hide from the cushions/ behind a black
vinyl lounge/ women & cushions in explosions of
power/
i am frightened of them/ hidden/
some women
are plucking small green cushions from the ground/
collecting them into their arms/ like flowers or
clouds/
ten years to weed this hideous garden/ a
sedated woman muttering/
hating/ falling backwards/
she missed the cushions/ she skinned her elbows/
& needed bandages/
women are reaching/ towards
the ceiling/ trying hard to catch the vaporous cushions/
filled with helium/
there are anorexic dancing
women/ the atmosphere growing weak & transparent/
cushions out of reach for them/
one strong woman/
holds the big red cushion/ crushing it to death/
calling it her husband/
women are frightened of her/
she slit her wrists the night before/ into the heart
of the cushion/ hot blood within/
i admire her hot
strength/ her fight to the death/
there are blue
cushions wet from sadness/ women holding them/
weeping into them/ occasionally chastising/
blue dye
running into their stockings/ like the blue blood
of badness/ purple cushions of spirit/ yellow
cushions of madness/
each of the women/ with their
own special cushion/ to hug/ to escape/ to punch/
to straddle/ to cuddle/ to bash/ to carry/ to
masturbate/
i hide behind the big orange cushion
near the window/ hidden behind it/ like a sunset
fading into twilight/
hoping it might sink/ with me
clutching onto it/ no cushions in the room are
black/ none black enough for me/
i close my eyes &
feel better/ to leave the cushions/ to the women
of colour | 
