Hospital
Mid-July
Hospital
Sun pungent, not cold
But the snow dwells at my feet
The heavy air squats above my lungs
Took awhile to shake off the ants
The ground attentive,
The time a prisoner needs to hibernate,
Fear swallowing the pulse in my chest whole.
insensible I crossed many entrances,
I walked through rooms filled
with scents of chloroform,
Old tools, fetid sheets, rusty cabinets.
I am here among the tormented bodies.
Silence needles and twinges me unceasingly
Now my heart is a needle,
The orange pumpkins have no eyes,
Pointed at balconies that
Drink rusty tears from the sky.
O how the balconies melt like echoes
O how the sun illuminates the present
O how to die or to smile
I opened a slit in my Spirit
There I put myself
Then disappeared
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem