a phenomenology of migraine


look there’s a blind spot

not really blind

not a spot like an ink blot

but I can’t make out

what’s really there

like a drop of water

on my glasses

it’s only small

like forgetting to buy an avocado

or a touch of arrogance

that no one else would notice

but it’s bloody well there

right at the core of things

and expanding slowly

like a melanoma

or dementia

there’s a ziggy flickering starting

along the C edge

I retract the melanoma

replace it with a cornfield burn-off

flames licking outwards

you will have to excuse me

pause your problems

frayed my focus is shot

too many metaphors

no similes

what the hell

lightning all around

even through closed lids

go away I’m bunkered

a rumbling grumbling thundering

from a woofer pulsing in the dome

full vision like new grass

re-covers the blackened land

and the mindself

finds its way back

while I sleep rough

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