Pills and Poetry

Fantasy childhood memory.
Distorted truth rambling
and incoherent – fake.
In an old place
that’s not an old place,
there’s a door
that leads to another space.
Three young guys, one’s a girl
work in front of large monitors –
white hot computer hacks.
My flat is trashed,
and they are analyzing my things.
I remember the whole thing
subconsciously, so it’s never real –
just a fragment at the site
of a memory.
A dog whistle that’s unbearable.
A blank filled with pills and poetry.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: