smelling like rotten egg
cum fist intestines thrown in
crowded squatter canals of
his little town,
he went to the local catholic church
to make them all feel
how it smells to be a congenital
sinner
no amount of bath
soap, astringent, perfume
can cancel this
smell
of course, everyone was mad
at him
and pretended that they do not know him
correct: who knows one self really?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem