'Tell Pablo I cannot see! '
says the man in the Picasso painting
as I pass by, program in hand.
The man has a hairy nose
where each of his ears should be.
And his ears have become a butterfly
where his nose ought to be.
I paid top dollar to see this exhibit.
The man in the painting rants on:
'Pablo has done me wrong!
The eye in the middle of my forehead
has a detached retina.
I need a new eye so I can watch
you and the other voyeurs
roll your eyes and laugh at me.
Tell Pablo I cannot see! '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem