For a long time
I suffered from Irritable Bowel Syndrome.
I lived in a house on the hill.
In that house I suffered the mistrust
to believe that I suffer.
I am a candidate for pills
and evenings with pretty ladies.
There is a creation and labeling of me somewhere,
thence I take off my head and screw it
into oil cans.
I jump around and talk about tackle box
and incense holder.
I live in the house on a hill.
– Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin
from:
Antipoémus (poetry book)
novamartinpoetry.com 