HOSPITALS and medicine, with their
wooden drugs, a underground womb spills
over, and you find a decoy thats tast
like wine or blood,
healed and forgiven, says the ghost of
your past, still, some thing not right,
and to prove it, you sleep with a night
light on............
HOSPITALS and medicine, with their
wooden drugs.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I don't feel that my intelligence stretches to the full understanding of this.But I admire the way in which it is written.Love Duncan