I need short-term goals to make the long road
to long term goals bearable, tonight my short-
term goal, making the best of a long weekend,
was killed and buried so deep the memory of
it is already gone: one moment you were still
optimistic, convinced your system worked, the
next you were shot down by the news that it's
not working - and the little bits of my brittle
Positive attitude, based on Nanny McFee and
a translucent-pearl kitchen in afternoon sunlight,
scattered so far I can't find a single bit to comfort
me, the only way up seems to need long cotton
candy strings as this mirthless, vengeful fate of
yours where your every move on the board ends
in checkmate, & your rebounding troubles, gave
me a permanent headache, to crown it all when
I could not lock the kitchen's aluminium door
You descended on me like an angry god bent on
revenge for all YOUR sins through the years - at
least this deflates your mounting frustration while
me being the target means it's no fun, so without
companionship, my headache & I watch TV…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem