the holier it is the more drawn
it is to deer crap and tuna fish
oh dress me in perfume
like the bride at a funeral
because sometimes a soul
needs to dive deep down
to the muck and crepuscence
put the anus on all of us
and the supercomputer
investigates the turd
to the maw and the paw
extend every dignity
but the flesh of the dead
is the meat of this world
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem