The mirages that will HASH-this.
Some sit with steadfast tiredness
Sucking bubbles from the blue-glass hookah
Its aroma of dry apples tinted with
The clandestine smell of Afghan gum -
Tough, pungent and filled with dreams(
Disquieting distractions) and demons(
Dramatising dragons) clawing with
Fiery talons in/out consciousness.
- Be still - whispered Hush-like.
13 days trekking up the mountain
13 nights with the Tempter, testing
tight and sly. Flower rabbits and Alice-like
Journeys. Fearing that first step;
Farming indoors. The Hashish Mirage!
The city of survival
The seat of senseness
Legal cookies
Neither tender-N-estor's necrophilia.
Shim-shamming through the zombie-zest throng.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem