Anhedonia my love
Suck me dry
I’ll take a nap
Under the wax sun
While you lick me with
Your sandpaper tongue
You want men coy
Like a child
The outbursts will be mild
Just a doll
Hung on the wall
A lead head
On a spine
With nothing to call mine
No papers to sign
No reason to grow
Just waiting in line
See the world
Through seven films of glass
Won’t know what’s been done
Until it’s past
Hear the music
Through the window
But I don’t recognize
The tune
Faces
Turn to sketches
On the sidewalk
After noon
I won’t bow down
No anhedonia
I won’t kneel
I swear I’ll find somebody else
To make me feel
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem