(Úr ljóðabálknum Death to Kardashian)
I do not grumble or protest,
look away or put up a fight
as my schizophrenic wreck of a mummy is grounded,
sedated and securely put away.
Wrapped up, strapped down,
tucked in and spaced out
for goodness sake
and mine, for good.
In the orphanage and the cinema,
the schoolyard and the chapel
I play a child in time
with visits to the sanitarium.
