i put on vertigo today
to relate to the slow flooding of green
i came to the circling score
remembering how I used to get slapped
when scotty embraces made-over judy
i couldn’t help but cry as i fear
i want to be made-over too
in someone else’s image

sometimes I forget
that I am ish
as one of the sun frowning commuters
I think in their language
then every once in a mile
a rozmowa comes and
as I forget the ish words equivalents
as i stumble upon the grammar
I realise I'm a universal foreigner
of too many heimats