How to make art pay?
No real way, I say!
Like University of Life jokes
Dirty spoons and spoke
I am rich though from internal conquests
W/ guests invited to invisible banquets
We dine on the finest of songs
A muse machine, drunken lyric spirit
Poorly Benjamin's and sickly sounds
Gaggles and gaffs abound unholy ground
To one and / or a thousand hands
I am worm in the filthiest of sands
And I'll create or simply destroy
After all, all Gods children must have toys.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem