Well, you know…
OK, this is not like I want
to be rude this morning
by matching your 70 against my 72
I don't drivel as much as you
but mind you my rant is as much a poem
as your spiel is
and despite my cutting the grass
under your feet,
not that you need a soft place to land,
I need the crumpled grass
from beneath your big feet
to stuff in my pipe while writing this.
For inspiration, you know.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem