Siobhan Harvey
Considering the Autistic Boy as a Cloud
1: Cumulus
The body is a nest alive with new song.
The brain is fluent in ghost.
The tongue is rich with poetry.
The arms come open to embrace.
The head comes full of questions and frightening insight.
The fingers that quicken keyboard, building block and book.
The skin that’s sensitive and sore.
All that shape, soul, creation and caesura.
All that softness, halation and omniscience.
2: Cumulonimbus
The body is a hive buzzing with electricity.
The brain is fluent in storm.
The tongue is slick with blue-bladed invective.
The fists come clenched and swinging.
The head comes crashing against bench-top and floor.
The fingers that intrigue power-socket, toaster and flame.
The skin that’s blistered, bruised and scarred.
All that mettle, spleen, spit and fire.
All that turbulence, charge and disease.
