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..and what of the seventies?
she says-a time of innocence
surely one of the worst dressed

decades of all time but t-rex..
and bowie..******* was harmless
pedophiles and serial killers non-existant..

ii

you could go across-land to india
the bus left london once a week..
magic bus..and you could stay

for as long as you wanted..(in india)
a lot never made it past istanbul..
or afghanistan..

it arrived in new delhi three weeks
later..with the grace of god..
a lot of fun..
lily considers her play-list
she says,or i will just get ******
a lot of eighties..

creation is born of suppression
the victorians,thatcher..regan..
(we went to the sun)

ii

i had one room
a concrete box with
a large wardrobe-the sole

decor-a concrete floor
and a great piece of wood
for a door

the key to heavy to carry..
the back-door opened to the sea
and there i did my daily ablutions..

and when there was a storm!
it all came down..i sat and watched
the light..

when we had *** the first time r
remember?
the land lady sat in attendance?!

you hid..she said,avrio..mikalis,
you go and i said don´t you worry
about that..

but i did nt..i loved that room
i wonder if it is still there..
i hope so..

iii

bored with it already
she tosses her head
she says music and dance is

her  therapy..spontaneity is a thing..
but that key was a problem..
too heavy to carry and if left

on the table,attracted attention..
i would have to pocket it
if i went to the toilet

and this suggested distrust..
but the door was beautiful
old and creased and green..

iv

and the landlady was ok
she would feed me
tell me not to lose the key..

the room was completely barren
only the sea..
the little rock pool my friend..
i bought this collection of
or selected poems by the great
sylvia plath

i don´t really know her well
but she was married to ted
a poet lauriette of the fifties

it was fifty cents from a boot
car or car boot and my first thought
as always was

how books have depreciated
it would be the best part of a poor man´s
wage back in victorian age

indeed if he could read..
books were honoured and loved
a golden age of literature..

in future what will be the equivalent?
i wondered..
but meanwhile i paid my 50 cent..
lily does her yoga
into the pensive penguin..
she´s on the radio again..!

one hesitant flipper
and some favourite songs
some poems

and her friend steve..
are penguins monogomous
they might be

i´ll ask the computer
but standing by the ice
flashing a peculiar eye

the soul is all
her nose in the comical air
the fish asks why..
i

lily does her yoga
she extends one ear..
they are always spying on her-

they go, di-di-di-di-DA..
well,she wanted fame and fortune
and now she can´t go to the bathroom

without them all hearing..
(someone took her underwear..)
extends the other ear-

ah..the silly owl..!
lifts her nose to a 45 degree angle
and let´s her mouth dangle..hold it!

ii

her eye flashes peculiar
and she extends an idex..
and relax...

what do they want from me?
that´s what i want to know-
(perhaps another hour on the radio..)
lily does her yoga
she drifts into the paranoid cloud
what do they want from me?

that´s what i don´t understand..
she puts the music up loud
you got me pretty deep,baby..

you need money i need money
man,can-not live by poetry alone
bbr-bbrr-the telephone-

not-in leave apoem..
poppies in july
another from sylvia

little poppies,little hell flames,
do you no harm

you flicker,i cannot touch you,
i put my hands among the flames.nothing burns

and it exhausts me to watch you
flickering like that,wrinkly and clear red,like the skin of a
                                                               ­                                    mouth

a mouth just bloodied.
little ****** skirts!

there are fumes i can-not touch
where are your opiates,your nauseous capsules?

if i could bleed or sleep!-
if my mouth could marry a hurt like that!

or your liquors seep to me,in this glass capsule
dulling and stilling.

but colourless.colourless.
lily does her yoga
dictates a letter:
thankyou for the poems

by ms. plath had to laugh-
age and insanity..!?
(in her itzy-bitzy-polka-dot-

bikini..)she goes into the
laughing monkey..take down this poem
mj-

once your in their mind
then,one burrows-
like a small animal

with red eyes and fearful tail!
no limits, scream the signs..
it is with siege mentality-

to break down and
into the hysterical!
because once inside?(the middle)

the pain IS the brain
one takes a suitable stance
and stays..

ii

read it back mj..after we spent
a long night on the beach
the sun was a rose

and we climbed a hill
that was red and hot
with little or no shade

barefoot and sore..
we made a cafe after three hours
and it was only us..

from her purse..
she said i have this
it was a bud of kerela

i said,pourquoi pas
she said how do you feel
she said she was too high

and i agreed
so we went for a swim
then we walked in the heat to

our little house and laid in
the cool.
and fell asleep..
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