As if the headache opened up my mind;
Before me lies an endless, empty plain
Birdless and grassless, on which I can find
No spot to draw attention but the whole;
A fire burns somewhere beyond my sight,
Its smoke a shimmer. Up above, a hole
Parts in the whispy clouds to show the night
Illuminated by a bloody moon
Which passes then behind a cloud again
And all is dark. Somewhere a loon
Cackles against the sky. There are no men.
No women either. As I strive to look
Pain surges and it closes like a book.
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