Just today
that I am at home all day;
irritable,
tired,
humorless
and with a thousand birds in my head.
Right now
that to avoid the flurry of feathers
I left the kettle on the fire
and scream
and spit
and drools
like a child.
Today
that discouragement sweeps the earth
about my furniture allergy;
that the dishes are camping inside the sink
and the clothes hang unpredictably on my shoulders.
Right now
that the dog barks for food
and the plants are unpotted
and the pair of eyes that he came carrying
refuses to see
any illusion
postponed during
the whole fortnight.
Just today you want to know
why am I into poetry...
Listen:
the house is about to be boarded up
his last metaphor.