milk without honey
toast without jam
work without fridays
east without lamb
politics without Clintons
jokes without laughs
me in the middle with
no place to crash
what good is verse
if it prompts no return
has unsolvable riddles and
spades to unlearn
nonsense to normsense
again and again
makes the absurd the
province of men
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem