Tonight's Poet Corner: The Day I Went Mad
The Day I Went Mad
by Belinda Roddie
The day I went mad was when
a stranger followed me with
half a pound of sugar in his pocket,
snorting up speeches until I
screamed, "Fuck off!
Fuck off, fuck off, fuck
off!" right before maple syrup
descended from my left nostril
and I crashed on one hip and made
the pavement break beneath my weight.
When I came to, the walls were pink
and pulsing, like the sides of a sated
tongue, and I shouted at the rising floor
for answers, but the teeth on the table
did not have time to speak. I drenched
myself in hot lemonade and dripped
sarcasm, watching it sizzle only for
a moment before everything got
very,
very cold.
by Belinda Roddie
The day I went mad was when
a stranger followed me with
half a pound of sugar in his pocket,
snorting up speeches until I
screamed, "Fuck off!
Fuck off, fuck off, fuck
off!" right before maple syrup
descended from my left nostril
and I crashed on one hip and made
the pavement break beneath my weight.
When I came to, the walls were pink
and pulsing, like the sides of a sated
tongue, and I shouted at the rising floor
for answers, but the teeth on the table
did not have time to speak. I drenched
myself in hot lemonade and dripped
sarcasm, watching it sizzle only for
a moment before everything got
very,
very cold.
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