WHO IS THAT MAN?
I feel like screaming
I feel like kicking something
I feel like my head is…exploding.
You are…your name is…
Buried in that sea of viscosity
That I am scrabbling about in
I can see it
It’s almost on the surface now…
On the tip of my tongue…
No…it’s gone again.
And I am standing in this room…
What am I looking for?
It all reminds me of my grandfather, who,
In his last tortured months,
Was convinced that somebody was forever following him about.
Then one day he spotted his own reflection in a plate glass shop window
There!, he shouted,
There he is!
Who is that man?