Arcane hieroglyphs,
mangled gibberish,
cross-orthogonal zigzags
scribbled across walls.
Spattered alien symbols,
distorted identities
ooze on black macadam.
At night, like Tomcats,
graffitists creep, mark
their territory. They spray, run,
invade the stillness of the night
with spray cans hissing.
Haze-shrouded figures,
barely delineated against
any ghostly night, they crown
ghetto downtowns.
Only at daybreak when Ra's beams
cast trenchant shadows
can one decipher their notes and
drawings and awesome monograms
that camouflage, no! Bandage
fissures in the decaying walls.
Only at the crack of dawn, bloody
bullet holes identify their owners.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem