The ellipsis
was sulking and
in a pensive mood….
And so I said: Well?
And Ellipsis said: What?
I said: You’re sulking…
And Ellipsis erupted
like pimples on an adolescent’s face:
You wrote poems on every tribe of my race;
you wrote of the full stop and the comma and the dash
and about every other freak that jumps up
on a printed page…
And now you ask me, why I sulk!
So, I said cautiously,
what do you want me to do?
So, write me a freaking poem on me -
The Ellipsis!
And I scratched my head, and I said:
A poem about the Ellipsis?
Hmmmm…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem