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Crooked bird

In tribute to my good friend Sara

Rob Cullen
Published in
6 min readJun 10, 2020

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The word used was scoliosis
a curvature of the spine
diagnosed when I was five.
A crooked little bird re-defined.

Three days a week
visits to a clinic
for re-alignment
and those corrections.

Stiff straight backed women
in starched white coats
eyes of coldness
blank cold eyes
giving out the signal
saying be careful.

The crooked little birds walked
into a white walled room
narrow high windows
canvas black plimsolls
squeaking on the yellow
varnished pine floor.

The sickening smell
of carbolic disinfectant
swimming into our lungs
we crooked little birds.

Our mothers sat
on the outside
unknowing
We were told
to take off our clothes
except for underwear
so we sat silently
on the benches
a line of crooked wee birds.

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Rob Cullen
Resistance Poetry

Rob Cullen artist, writer, poet, artist — admires Lorca, the view of my garden, the thoughts of my sheepdog. Likes cooking what I grow. www.celfypridd.co.uk