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Mar 2023
here it comes—
the edges of my frail mind
falter and fade. dreadful closet walls,
***** and mangled, sick yellow paper,
turn, twist, tighten,
swallow whole.
through the dingy apartment esophagus
i am thrown into the stomach of the street
suffocating summer sweat
like swirling bile.

in the sky the sweltering sun sighs,
settling down for sleep. oh, this world!
a fever seeps inside me now, rustling
the detritus buried in the murk of my skull,
the **** that i am.
fitful and convulsive machinery,
spasmodic anatomy,
land conquered by fear.

oh, sorry sight! napoleon on his knees,
brought down to beg. watchful eyes glimmer
along the streets, marbles shimmer
in sunset light, piercing yellow orbs
catlike and silent.
ants, ants, ants! their words and whispers—
criminal, knave, pariah!

the moon, all round and bright, sits plump
in the black sea like a kopeck.
nighttime air drinks me, drains and digests
dregs of breath from convulsing lungs.
here i lie, at the assail and besiege
of fever-filled dreams,
again in the mouth of the beast, awaiting
the gnash of its teeth.
1/26/23
for raskolnikov
gillian chapman
Written by
gillian chapman  21/F/toronto
(21/F/toronto)   
118
   MS Anjaan and Mike Adam
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