Κρίση ταυτότητας

This is the city where men are mended.

i lie on a great anvil...

I entered the stomach of indifference, the wordless cupboard...

This is the after-hell: I see the light...

A current agitates the wires

volt upon volt. Catgut stitches my fissures.

A workman walks by carrying a pink torso.

The storerooms are full of hearts.

This is the city of spare parts...

On Fridays the little children come

to trade their hooks for hands.

Dead men leave eyes for others.

Love is the uniform of my bald nurse...

My mendings itch. There is nothing to do.

I shall be good as new.

Σ.τ.Β:Το απόσπασμα είναι από το ποίημα της Sylvia Plath /The Stones και το σκίτσο είναι του Derek Hess