• Joanna Seldon

  • Displayed in Chelsea

    How nice for the dwellers of Chelsea,

    For the tourists who visit in droves

    To spot the odd hospital escapee

    Whose aura of otherness behoves


    The healthy, the fit and the smoking

    To tread SW3 with more care,

    To steer round the tube-up-nose bloke in

    Luke’s Gardens; the dame without her hair.


    They’ve got used to the man on the drip,

    Machine shunted across Fulham Road

    Where he chills at the café and sips

    On coffee and sunshine – unloads


    That husk, ward-dried sense of himself.

    Or they might just see me – and my pump

    And bandage and cannula.  Health

    Can implode with that very first lump.



    Written at The Royal Marsden Hospital, Chelsea