jetlag poetry - I

hey guys, I´m in Salamanca, Spain right now. Sitting in an internet cafe at a comp with a crappy keyboard with missing tilethingies.


jetlag poetry
the onset of a jetlag

you can´t hold onto things that slip
so easily from your grasp like grass
shards of mirrors that show only
shallow likeness
man with red hands resembles
red herring but not the kind in the
fish yard
the kind you paint your houses with
and
sombersullen memories of begotten
fallacies come and go with
the onset of sterilzing
the new moon

the monster inside doesn’t hold his
breath for long and in the
deep dark depths of demensia
he awakes