The bigamous chauvinist politician son tells his poor father
While his concubine on the treadmill to reduce her bad cholesterol,
'Hey! Old man please do not enter barefooted and all the way you bring dirty sand into our bungalow.'
Poor father returned to his shack and on his way back he picked a fistful of sand from the premises and kept in his holey satchel as a keepsake.
*Damned politics;
The one and only career that doesn't require qualifications but hypocrisy?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem