He always has something to say
something incoherent interminable intolerable to say
even if you spoke to no one
in particular
about the weather
his speech is fluent
and gibberish
except that you have been exasperated enough
to not decipher
the hieroglyphics
he is at his best
when provoked
by people seemingly undermining
the confidence of his kind
or expertise
if only his worst
did not have to do
with holding
one's breath
he makes me think
of my imagined inadequacies
glaring against
his assertive contumacious
uncaring uniqueness
and wonder if he could change
my unapproachable inquiries.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem