I’ve been lucky enough to have my hair cut
by a complete idiot, on perceiving its quality
and texture she cut it in layers – now I have
nothing left, can’t create a style, looking like
an idiot myself, enough to spoil my day
Dishes first, then catching up on the work of
today, when the going got tough I couldn’t
find the right terms, frequent upsurges of ad-
renaline in getting angry at being frequently
interrupted by an inconsiderate colleague
Took my little powers of concentration away,
sitting like sardines in a tin can one can’t sit
back and enjoy solitude, leaving me no energy,
growing feverish and hot, once a kind surgeon
offered to remove one adrenal gland
To lessen the adrenaline rush caused by any
emotional change; saved by a second opinion
advising me to make peace with chronic head-
ache caused by my volatile nature, my only re-
course practicing self-control and subterfuge
The advantages are HUGE, a little goodness leads
to epiphany, so I’m willing to pay by suffering the
feverish anxiety caused by things going awry,
hiding the discomfort of fluctuating moods as
best I may
Never sure that I will be able to complete any job,
trying to create an upbeat mood superficially by
focusing on positive thoughts only, writing a
few poems during the day…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
the title says it all! And the subterfuge must be working as the poem exercises said precision & self-control impeccably... Rgds, Big Bro