light at the end of the tunnel
does that mean I’m almost dead?
this spinning wheel is like the cyclone
that took us all those years ago
washing machine drill
winds driven back and forth
round and round as dizzying
as a child on a merry-go-round
she can’t get off the
feeling in the
belly as the horse goes up and down
the original now in San Sebastian
its Edwardian colours shining
children riding it still in their
and overcoats their old-fashioned
curls tight against the head
there’s a Russian short story
about free rides introduced for the
proletariat one of whom rides
the merry-go-round until he vomits
do people vomit these days?
there’s bulimia and nausea but
vomiting too is so old fashioned
body out of control like cyclonic winds
that threaten all the beautiful futures
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