Chimes on the brink
Dazed in hoody wink
Sardines on ice-cubes
Gloated with feisty tubes
Lies applauded in Yale
With ties strewned bare
Reason to bud out
Enough fashion laid stout
Gather twigs screeching
For wasted dance preaching
Volts of mercury born
Knotted rode on road torn
Cold besought darkness
Told manifold gaudiness
Say save the forth
Lest dismay the girth
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem