Like Apollinaire… His Head In Bandages

Is there anyone outside this room?
Has it stopped raining?
What did we do in class yesterday?
Have you finished that book yet?
Do you remember me?
Do you normally dress like that?
Have you eaten?
How do you find the energy to do that?
Did I put enough work in?

Did they meet safely?
Did he ever find his way home?
Was it all a dream?
Do you have enough money?
How can I get this anger out?
Why don’t I cry as much as I used to?
Is one language enough?
Why won’t it click with me?
Can I lie and still be happy?
Am I any different from how I was?
Can I run any faster?

Does he ever shut up?
Is it okay if I talk to you about something?
What is there left to do?
Is there enough time?
Will I ever really come down?
How would you define abuse?
Is sympathy worth it?
Do they really mean what they say?
Can I afford another indulgence?
Have I already lost?

Does the fantasy ring offensive?
Can “plans, rather vindictive” become light?
With anger begetting anger, any questions?
Can other people be sadder?
If so, will they say?
If so, will I listen?
Who better than a creator?
What have ye done, my son?
Sad for a sooner departure?
Happy at your time alone?
Am I?

Campbell Calverley

Campbell Calverley

Campbell Calverley was born in 1993 in Dunedin, New Zealand, where he currently lives. He is studying Classics for his Bachelor of Arts at the University of Otago. He regularly publishes his poems in the Otago Scribbler Zine:

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