it's a smaller pill today;
dissolves on the tongue
if i let it,
makes me forgetful.
there are many things left to forget.
i pop it from the blister pack
and my belly grows still,
i hold the seeds of psychosis,
smaller than the wavelength of visible light.
dog bark, street lamp,
these dark mornings;
the world of this interest.
once colours, instead i'm reading
other people night and day.
first published by 'dreich'
appears in the chapbook 'silent stigma, loud leaf'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem