‘Mutation’, by Marion Michell

/ Anthology / By

This image is of a small green vase, grass-green and made of thick glass which slightly tapers top to bottom. Four small tulips stand in water, three with fading orange petals, one with purple. All are in the stage just before the petals, which seem to be curling in on themselves, fall off. A few stamen are visible, like tiny black tongues.An afternoon spent, or was it an evening, or three, in a wheel clamp’s tender clasp. My dues for modernist mutation paid out in full: ribs, calves, hands, sections of skull, wrenching, arching, hardening. A homecoming of sorts, a holding; mattress won’t grumble, neither will I – if only we knew if we’re hot or cold, horsehair or hardware, flesh or fish or foil.


U.K.