.
.
i’m the victim of an accident
that was not my fault,
ignited by a sex act
and born into the world
without my consent,
i eat and drink, copulate,
steal books, write poems,
catch a cold, take strange drugs,
masturbate and watch TV
all as a result of generative actions
over which i had no control,
the call-centre claims-lawyer
says the cosmos owes me big,
he’s taking up my case…
ANDREW DARLINGTON
.
Eliot tried to say the same thing Andrew, but he ‘bottled it’.
Thanks for the poem it’s great
Comment by Malcolm Paul on 25 July, 2025 at 6:27 am