And these — there ridiculous paranormal
experts words coming out from their mouths
“energy” — “force” — “electric charge” —
“temperature” — Ergo
supernatural = matter
assuming these people know mass-energy equivalence or E=mc^2
but my point really is
I am a ghost —
She, ah she keeps on reminding
me that I am a ghost — What, then —
I pass through walls, she passes through
me, seeing nothing. Now! Confused I am thinking
I am made of
i-don’t-know, but since she can’t
see / hear / feel
me I conclude, I am
made of neutrinos, or photons or other elusive
particles —
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem