an electrical life

a poem for louis wain

fear death by water

searching for help through salt-encrusted eyelashes

an endless blue-grey,

the sting as it hits the cavity at the back of the mouth

fear a death faced alone

as your paintings dissolve on the shipwreck floor

fear the tulips and hyacinths;

they will bloom only once your love is lost

fear the cleft lip

especially if the woman you love finds it handsome

now you are in her grasp

now you are in danger of being lost

mummy, daddy, help me (water)

i’m drowning (he says to the butler)

i’m scared (in his pyjamas, wet all down the legs)

my paintings (should have left him behind)

so much water (his paintings, all over the floor)

watercolour cats (a bloated pulp on the floor)

---

in july, i watched the electrical life of louis wain with my father and stepmother, and since then the film has had an incredible grasp on me. louis wain was such a revolutionary artist and i haven’t felt such a connection to a fictional (or fictionalised) character in quite some time. the electrical life is definitely worth a watch if you have a spare two hours, but consider keeping a box of tissues at the ready.

one day i’ll write an essay about all the cats that i’ve loved. but for now we have louis wain.