In the lunatic asylum where I live
there are no mirrors or clocks
and it's not so easy to cheat at cards.
I shuffle the deck
and palm the ace of spades -
hidden in my cloud
of carcinogenic smoke.
Tomorrow I'm playing Groucho Marx
who listens to unseen violin music
and spends his nights
at the opera.
With Groucho I always deal
straight
from the top.
When I'm playing God
I leave
the dealing to Him.
He deals
as he likes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good one. I like the slight humour woven into your poetry. A pleasure to find. Love Ernestine XXX