scouting for talent in the streets
(for the next Michael Jackson or Pavarotti
or anyone who can make me money)
I spotted there in the streets of Melbourne
a bloodhound and a puppy, each with a violin
and each playing -
the puppy a natural, the bloodhound indistinct
I spread out on the floor
the talent contract for a team
and the bloodhound signed with a grin;
but just as the puppy lifted its paw
another dog came running, picked up the puppy
and ran off with the speed of lightning
"Damn! What's that about? "
I asked the bloodhound
"Oh, " said the bloodhound sheepishly
"That's his mum, my wife - she doesn't want
him to be a musician like me…
she'd rather he grows up to be a doctor! "
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good writing, I like it, thanks. please read my new poems and comment.