with
or
by years...
eons...
worth of garbled
and
variously misinterpreted chants
and
drummings...
the do nots
and
do do do do ssssssssss...
the warinessess..
.the kiln-dried
depersonalized longings dedicated to statuary,
more formless infestations
encrypted
and
given
promises
of
later, later, it'll get good'n'plenty......
there is
nothing to cling/clang to but the trolley.....the brass wringer...
no one to blame....
.excoriation becomes a personal and isolated thing....
shared only by beasts with slightly larger brains
and
soles equally calloused...........
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem