If I had the thing
I wouldn’t be at work
I’d be at work on its lips
I’d give it wings
Hold it above my head and fly with it
Paint it red, put out fires with it
I’d draw a long bubble bath just to watch it climb in
If I had the thing
I’d give it a spine to send shivers down
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem