in bed
waiting for the vomit to come.
I hope it is high-class vomit,
undisputed calibre of disease
that traders will offer me
a high penny for.
I will take that penny
and throw it away,
so that in starvation
and loneliness
further vomit will come.
Then I will return
to the traders,
and they will say,
‘but this is just like your last vomit,
we don’t want any of this’.
And having lost their interest,
I’ll turn away, penniless
frightened,
and then I will truly be sick.
1 comment:
I think dumas once said something about the way people will hungrily lap up one's distress like vampires, but have little interest (as an audience) in much else. Or it could have been someone else that said that - I am notoriously unreliable as a source of quotes.
I thought that was a good poem. And thanks for sharing it out here. Isn't this an interesting century for the arts so far! Freedom?
Peter
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