Delirium by Nikos Laios

Delirium

Secret lemon,
Sour lemon;
Bittersweet
Tenderness,
Delirium turning,
Turning, burning.

Yellow
Fragrant
Corpuscles,
Bursting
Pustules;
Wrinkled
Lonely
Lemon.

A staggering
Old man,
Women
Swaying
On Sunday,
Pensive,
Moody men
Playing
Checkers,
The crack
Whores and
Dandies with
Their pastrami
Sandwiches.

The
Ancient
Ways,
The
Golgotha
Ways.

ancient_faces_400Burdens
Packed on
Backs like
Pack-animals
Crossing
The roads,
The Sahara;
Or crossing
Fields and
Promenades
And office
Blocks.

Searing
Premonitions,
Like a secret
Seer, a
Confessional
Burning on my
Tongue;
Communion
Bread, or
The acid
Tabs, a line
Of cocaine,
A bottle of rum;
Outhit bitterness
Of desolation.

Sour,
Bittersweet
Tenderness;
Delirium turning,
Turning, burning.

Yellow
Fragrant
Corpuscles,
Bursting
Pustules;
Lonely
Wrinkled
Lemon.

The
Raging
Oceans, the
Rivers of
Blood, the
Racing
Torrent of
Men falling
Over the
Waterfall
Into the
Abyss of
The beast.

All
Encased
In the sour
Sweet
Teardrops
Of this
Screwed
Up wrinkled
Lemon.

My
Delirium.

As if the
Universe
With its black
Hole of a mouth
Bit down on our
Insignificant
Planet and
And screwed
Up Its nose with
The sourness
Of a petulant
Child, that
Just spits out
The seeds.

But that absurd
Moment never
Made me feel
So alive and
Coursing
With life,
So vital.

Unified
With the
Ephemerality
Binding us all;
The cosmic
Molecules,
The stardust,
That courses
Through bones,
Blood, mountains,
Trees, and seas.

Desperately,
I craved that
Sourness,
I craved that
Bittersweet
Delirium that
Turned, and
Rotated In
My mouth;
That burned
The stupor
From my
Eyes.

For my
Whole
Universe
Became defined
By those sour,
Bitter-sweet
Mouthfuls.

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