Dead ends, slippery steps
and all the hanky-panky around
startle not
a well-informed post-modern.
He walks away grimly
bypassing all rogue barriers
and wiping the saliva spitted on him.
No anger, no umbrage...
sometimes, some even manage a smile;
and all things fall short of surprise
in a world where it is hard to find
clean mirrors and open books!
Love fails, marriages break,
wisely floated business deals sink...
People search everywhere and blame each other
for the source of the enshrouding malodor,
but hate to look at themselves
liberally besmeared with stinking ordure!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem