Your crazy, now I think i'm not.
Do not make me think it is poetics
suicide like all my others went before.
it is always on your mind, and i'm,
some after thought, your after birth.
You left behind to find.
It was not I who wrapped that bloody
rope around your neck.
And after the medication, wears off.
So I can begin again too understand you.
I spoke once to thick lost English, and
to whom,
and now for what.
Remember when you squeeze it and it
gives you all it has because it must,
your wicked smile just squeezes it for more.
A very powerful read, with all sorts of levels of connotation... have a wicked smile from tai, off to bedfordshire to commit hari crishna
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a bit abstract yet nicely done.......we all have some craziness to face from...