Waking from drug sleep tangled night,
sahara mind extending to incognita
ripples round a fire still burning
at the back behind the ears;
flames curl over the scalp,
here and there exploding
pointlessly, above my eye
or inside the ear.
My teeth feel as if they are about to depart.
I do not have the energy to weep.
A cup of tea, English solace,
and caresses from the cat.
Is it time to take another pill yet?
I string my lament on a chain of prayer,
mid of the sulphurous storm,
no end in sight.