In walks Randle
He tells me his name is R P McMurphy.
He has a pleasing air of dissidence
but bears no resemblance to Jack Nicholson
and Hollywood stars don’t have Leeds accents.
It didn’t take him long to settle in:
he pulled a pack of cards out in the day room,
drew a crowd with his shuffling technique,
talked four service users and a support worker
into a game of Trumps after tea,
took Zahid under his wing, started calling him Chief,
caught the eye of his new nemesis,
Natalie, the not-to-be-messed-with ward manager,
while he juggled oranges throughout The One Show.
But Zahid is no Chief Bromden. There’s no Billy Bibbit
to lead astray, no Max Taber saying: Play the game!
No Charlie Cheswick throwing tantrums
because he can’t watch his native Burnley play.
This is a ward for the over 65s
and the basketball court is a car park.
Even if he did succeed in planning an escape,
he could only hire a narrow boat
and the fish are crap in the Leeds/Liverpool canal.
But Randle will make the best of things,
try and smuggle in a bottle or two
when he’s off close obs, get a little party started.
He’ll try to bribe night shift staff to turn blind eyes
when his friend with benefits comes to visit
from the High rise flats of Lincoln Green.
He’ll order twelve pizzas in his adopted name
just to see if the guys at the take away fall for it.
He’ll soon lose his spark when the drugs kick in,
take part in whatever activities they throw at him,
eat his three squares a day, leave some on his chin.
But there’s always a chance he’ll spring back to life,
bounce back when the light returns to his eyes.
It will take more than drugs to take McMurphy down
now lobotomies are frowned upon.
And he’s good for the other service users
of a modern day mental health unit.
He’ll shake things up a bit. Make an impact.
Take Zahid. He hasn’t spoken in six weeks
and I just heard him say:
“Ah, Juicy fruit.”
Mark Connors is a writer from Leeds. He has been widely published in magazines, webzines and anthologies in the UK and overseas. His debut poetry collection, Nothing is Meant to be Broken, was published by Stairwell Books in 2017. For more info visit www.markconnors.co.uk