Its Retrograde Magic Poem by Margaret Alice Second

Wholegrain wheat tastes like cardboard although the
product claims to have sugar content, it doesn’t help
to make the day pass, no, I got an allergy headache,
an indication I’m so bored even pain is preferable to
nothing: happiness is like an ironed cloth

A satin sheet without a crease while pain resembles
a very creased cotton piece after being wrung - or
metallic material showing different colours when
held in the sun; pain gives more dimensions to life
whereas mindless joy is a flat, shiny bright surface

Without interesting depths and horizontal extension,
happiness is a single vertical line running on in the
sun without anything to catch our attention - maybe
because it’s an illusion of being one-dimensional in
a multidimensional holographic world

The illusionary quality of fun is like the icing on a
very bad cake - yet sometimes a dream is so very
delightful, it takes me beyond this life into a higher
dimension where vision is different and music stirs
my soul until my heart is fit to burst as it fills - with

Feelings no human life can retain – but not now –
now I’m caught in this moment of headache which
was summoned by the allergy working its retrograde
magic, creating the difficulties which stir the passion
for creation - to express all the thoughts in my head