Would Not Heal

The backyard a dump, just like my mind, spent
a day without my pre-frontal brain, with only
the reptilian base still functioning - chemical
contamination rendering me insane, first I was

shocked on discovering that my words were
utterly bad – though my colleague explained
she could see how hard I worked to convey
a bad original text in a readable way, feeling

better did not help to solve my crocodilian
pain - Arabic offered respite – but the allergy
took everything and the little alien living
inside my head could not calm down again

crying inside I surfed through the day, trying
to ride every wave; crashing and smashing 
into the obstacles; the sad, empty feeling never
left and meaningless, cold and alone, playing

clown, crooning meaningless songs, uttering
platitudes; I bumbled on – my best friend is
gone and no matter how hard I tried, my heart
would not heal and the crocodile could not

recover from shock – I mentioned my pain
about the backyard dump to my little girl -
she threatened to leave if I uttered another
word – by now the crocodile is gone, one

thing left: the little alien dead in my head