Rainforest in the Sleep Room
Rainforest in the Sleep Room - Pascale Petit
Rainforest in the Sleep Room
1
The highway goes through
the Amazon’s brain
like an ice pick through an eye-socket.
First we clear her synapses
then she forgets her animals.
2
Our bulldozers drive through
the rainbow boa of her cortex
like a scalpel –
those sleeping coils
still dreaming up new species.
3
hallucinations we’ve blitzed
with ECT.
The bilateral current purrs
through her frontal lobes
like a forest of songbirds
electrocuted by rain.
4
Afterwards, her thoughts are nestless,
except for a few chicks
up in the last ironwoods,
patrolled by armed guards.
Scientists climb ropes
to monitor her stats,
bring motherless macaws
down to incubators,
measuring their wings,
weighing naked souls.
5
as if she’s a patient
in the Sleep Room
who won’t wake –
her dreams treelines
traced by the EEG pen.
6
The only animals left
are grainy films
on camera traps
7
and a recording of the last
musician-wren
whose still small voice
is like the beginning of the world.
from Mama Amazonica (Bloodaxe, 2017), copyright © Pascale Petit 2017, used by permission of the author and the publisher