He gazed pharmaceutically out of the window
At a few thin sticks laying on the grass
And he imagined her nagging him
About moving them as soon as they fell
Rather than later
So he foolishly says
It’s only a few dead sticks
But that wasn’t what it was about
And he was a Neanderthal & a Philistine
What would a cave dwelling hermit know of the world?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great poem, like it.