Back in the good old days
you entered the vestibule
through the front door
of what was a corner bakehouse
with a shop front.
Now you go through a door
in the side street
into 'The Airless Oven'
where they don't use the air conditioner,
to boost bar sales,
and do use the one in the theatre
on the other side of a closed door,
to boost the sales of tickets.
It is adjusted to have the scrotums
loose or tight or just right,
depending on the night,
and on the director's cunning
to have many coming three nights running.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem