struldbrugg
i try to read in the open ward,
the fog in my brain makes it difficult,
but still i borrow poe
after a few pages
i close the book of short stories
in the library i find
gulliver’s travels
and sink into it
the dwarves and giants
do not disturb me as much
as the immortals
doomed to age forever,
as they lose their loved ones,
their memories,
their possessions,
and have to beg the villagers for money
i’m reading in the common room
next to an elderly lady,
who has not said a word
since she arrived a few weeks ago
i take a walk one evening
the same lady stops me at the entrance
and smiles
i’ve been cured, you know,
i’m fresh as a whistle
i congratulate her sincerely
just as i am about to step inside
she tugs my sleeve
you wouldn’t maybe have a euro?