Dust piling up
in corners
Being thrown from one corner
of the living room to the other
Trying to find a deeper meaning
in the humming of the fridge
As not even the loudest music can
fulfil this silence in my heart
Does man have a self,
if so, my self has me
My self has me
by the balls
Which means I’m having sex after all
With the one who loves and who hates me the most
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem