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at the pharmacy
at the pharmacy
ome books in my bookshelf are unread
and can stay the way, I need not read
everything printed
depression hangs over the landscape like
dust on windows tells me the obvious
come clean me now
When finally going ashore, I had floated
like an ant on an oak leaf, I was baffled
electricity bills have to be paid
the pharmacy is open, but I will wait a bit
it is full of middle-aged women talking
about their illnesses
there had been a storm, pot plants
had fallen to the floor, the weather
is getting worse every year
the apothecary is empty. I walk in
to get medicine for diabetes, but
I no longer ask why me
Copyright ©
Jan Hansen
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