Poetry: drug for daydreamers

thought at first I can`t live without poetry but
now I suspect that it´s poetry that can`t

live without me because it won`t leave me in peace
and that´s good because I don`t want to live without it at all -

so, it`s therefore less a question about how I shall
find poetry and more about what I shall do so that

it will find me... it really dose seem like a
kind of hide-and-seek all this... peep-bo!

I`m over here! but if it`s the case that every human being carries
his dose of innate opium within him secreted
and renewed* - yes, then my opium is poetry!

*Charles Baudelaire

Eva-Stina Byggmästar, ur Men hur små poeter finns det egentligen, 2008/
But How Can There Actually Be Little Poets. (Translated by Martin Murell).

Translator`s note: The French original reads: Chaque homme porte en lui sa dos d`opium, incessament sécrétée et renouvelée. The words are taken from Le spleen de Paris, Petits poèmes en prose, no XVIII, L`invittion au voyage, first published in 1869.