Poetry For Health
I want to feel my small room a cabin
in a boat, rocking imperceptibly
and understand when I open the door
flames will fill the corridor I must walk
like a statue on wheels, chiselled features
set firm, my thoughts bent to sombre lovers
the sweetest thing holds her breath on Mars
unwilling to be reconciled cheaply
Houdini of the prisons remains dead
to the heart beat any fool can feel