Eat you fist in freckled socks,
it screams a threat hollow and small
but grand for curled fingers
and polyester.
One fist down,
now chew the other right to the nub.
The knot
the stone
of wrist bone
boney white and bleached
with a stubborn sun
yearning to teach
you a lesson
in cooking
wild game.
How are you going to fight now?
With compliments
With hopes
and with world peace.
I stand for world peace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very unusual, but interesting approach to world peace. Thank you, RoseAnn