Creating our own universe at Kingsley,
balloons next to every desk, invitations
to HR week, what that could be, nobody
knows - a group of builders creating a
hammering symphony, they’re tearing
this place apart
Mobile air-cons add more noise - sister
called, ordering me to endorse her view
that her life with my parents was won-
derful – while I saw three people locked
in mortal combat; I dislike it when I am
coerced into rejecting
The evidence of my senses simply be-
cause she refuses to face the truth that
they are living a cold war, every facial ex-
pression, her body language and voice in-
flexion reveal irritation and tension, but
she demands I accept her verdict
They are happily getting along – while
they seemed poised to bite each other’s
head off!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem