The side-effects I got were: a hammering headache, the kind of sleep that comes crashing like waters through a floodgate, dreams like hallucinations that punch a hole in your grey matter. When you wake up, you realise that it is shaped like the thing most important to you.
All the roads outside go round and round,
Round the outside, all over everything --
Between the immense horizon
And the paltry houses.
I do not know how they are
Or what they are like
But from here,
They disappear like air.
They lead to nothing.
Most of the outside, when it has been lost,
Is like sugar slowly dissolving in water
It thickens, whitens, then dissolves --
Without a trace.
Shut like an old garage whose
Inside-darkness is so immaterial
It might not be something we know to be of this world.
Light is but brittle -- it disintegrates.
The world left to itself behaves
Like a predator -- nothing
Like what we have known.
The world left to itself
Is like a woman
Running into a wall
To put her broken bones
Back in place.
So the world swirls and whirls
And burns and cracks
Ovulates, ruptures, collapses,
Heaves --
In the morning,
The world particularises itself in
Spots of nebulous matter
Outside the window.
It is not the same world anymore --
Till yesterday it was our oyster.
New -- hard to look at.
All of the outside turns inside out
While inside I am drawing the curtains.
Everything you once loved will be lost, I whisper
The roads
And buildings
The lightposts, asbestos roofs, clotheslines…
Habitats
Faces -- and a classic, burning love...
They all begin to vapourize.
Beautiful.💗