RAMBLING

I slept most of yesterday, must have been two-thirds of the day,

and have been now awake two-thirds of the day, all of it

tired, which is a bit ironic. I feel I could sleep if I would

just lie down on the bed again, instead of sitting here before

the computer and an open window, the television showing feed

of dressage from the genocide-stained Paris Olympics behind

my back. I would like to walk to the beach and swim, next few

days will be rain and rain, like this coming evening, but I'm

simply too tired. But then, I did try that earlier, not swimming

but sleeping even more, putting aside Dumas and then that

snob Waugh, but it didn't work, not the first time nor

the second. My body knows it's rested, just my mind and eyes

that are tired, the body knows better, so I'm up and posting

on Instagram translations with errors, "tulee" twice

in the last one by the younger Darwish, That's what happens

when you do things with a tired mind instead of just watching

dressage from the genocide-stained Olympics, you spoil

good things like the voice of a nation whose babies

are being gutted and beheaded and burned alive and blinded

and left without limbs, alive until the next hospital massacre.

So that's my day, dear readers, how are yours going on that future

date on which your eyes are feeding your mind with this

wondrous Sumerian invention, writing, in which my thoughts

have been coded for you to decipher without you giving it

too much attention, the process in your mind, and perhaps

this poem. The former is the greater wonder, don't fall

to the plague of illiteracy, and even when the poem sucks,

 remember to curse the genocidaires of all hues

and remember always their victims.

29.07.2024