In his dream,
a disgusting reek,
that would by rights awaken,
was over-compensated
by another sense,
that kept him sedated
and dreaming.
He awoke to no reek.
'It may never have reeked, '
he wrote.
'What kept me asleep may have been,
in it's role as Anaesthesia,
trichloroethylene.'
Yes, Virginia, trichloroethylene:
once Trike, for short, for everyone,
but because Trike, for affection, for some,
knowing what now we know,
the short term now must be
the affectionless TCE.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem