Gwyneth Lewis – Ⅱ

Aphasia 

 

 

 

I ask for a ‘hammer’ but am given ‘spade’,

Feel like some ‘tea’ but order ‘orangeade’

 

by mistake. I specify ‘velvet’ but am given ‘silk’

in a colour I don’t even like

 

but I take it, pretend. Someone’s cut the string

between each word and its matching thing,

 

so my mind’s a junk shop of where I’ve been.

I’ll never know now what I really mean.