BATHE - Lindsay McLeod

My synaesthesia is playing up again

the novelty all but worn off

the colours have started humming 

anthems a little off key

it's not what I thought it was

and as it turns out, neither am I

its name tasting like measles in my 

mouth that make my allergies howl

the sickness itches worst when 

I let it shine like fool's gold

I am trying to wash it off me but

my synaesthesia is playing up again.

Originally published by POETiCA REViEW, 2023

Lindsay McLeod lives on the Australian coast where he is herded daily by his Blue Heeler, Mary. His poetry can be found online easily and appears most recently in RAT'S ASS REVIEW, AS IT OUGHT TO BE, BACKCHANNELS and CACTI FUR.