Mirrored
I am difficult to observe
It happens that I catch myself
in a shop window,
or feigned in a drinking glass beneath a kitchen lamp,
compressed in the convex; startled:
an elongated haunting
Otherwise I try to avoid
a direct confrontation
I allow myself on the surface
by the toothbrush & the skin cream:
there I grant myself a visibility visa
But before the lion’s share of glass I close my eyes
to the obvious;
let the visions drain themselves empty
into outer space
The body is beginning to overpower me
with sudden itching,
pain in the neck, oblique disturbances
and a whole toolbox of afflictions
I am difficult to compensate,
settle into ill temper
and ingratitude
Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin
Written on 2026-04-11 at 18:14
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