Remote Controller Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

The Remote
it was a terrible hallucination
an old hex came up of her grave
and raped me.
I was lame after paralyzing fear
she sat on top of me
and she reeked of semen from
a thousand men left to fester in the world’s
mouldy vagina.
I fumbled for my remote wanted to switch
the canal, could not find it,
then the horses came galloping through
the woods I mounted one and we were
in the pampas of Argentina,
all the while the hex hollered something
about multiple orgasms.
I found the remote and the screen was
filled with irises and sweet poems.