for a pittance of pay I must now make hay
never get to know me never get to be me
never get to be more than a shadow of self
never get to be taken down dusted off forgotten shelf
it seems an indifferent economy has forsaken me
it seems a materialist art depreciating economy
is going to silence me erase me still my pen eternally
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem