Sad And Bleak (Final)

Sad and bleak is the poor life of people who
write to the President; one lady has epilepsy,
arthritis, diabetes - an occupational therapist
testifies to her decreased functionality in daily
life - she is not able to lift up her arms, needs
a disability grant to survive

After reading this sad, sad letter I turn to the
other, a jilted husband describing fears that
his unhappy wife will kill him since they have
already interred a policeman at home (whose
home is quite unclear), the note added with
all sincerity as that man’s wife is

Suspect No.1 in the case; extrapolating from
this he feels it will be easy for his estranged
wife to kill HIM also; before I can stop myself
I morph into Alice in Wonderland, falling into
surrealism - taking instant soup and coffee
from the shelves around me to wake me up

Should this be a hallucination - but no, with
help of soup & coffee’s these letters become
more visible, their words drag me thus into a
nightmare-reality - people in rags begging for
relief from the President as if he were priest
in a secular religion, I sigh -

The really strange thing is reading how the
poor woman with arthritis “is attacked by an
epileptic fit al least 3 times a week” - I see
Mme Epileptic Fit tiptoeing into her room
at night and carry out a psychedelic attack
with electrodes as used to restart a heart

I don’t like this nightmarish land, must have
missed Wonderland and travelled on to the
astral dimensions as described by Eastern
spiritual masters