All black and white
With curves and lines
Scratched straight and
round, and curved just so
A man swallows the note
His bedfellow plays whose
Checkered shirt was lifted
by the lines and square.
Music on paper, no notes
But you know it's so
And on the side, the lowest
Side is a place of Triangular
Snacks pressed whole out
of cracked paste glue.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem