So you are alone?
What now, what about your being alone?
You write a poem about it?
Let me see and read it.
(reads like reading an
electric bill for January)
there is nothing here,
everyone feels like you do
except that you write about
it, and you call yourself a poet,
I don’t think it will make a difference
Do you drink san mig beer?
Do you smoke 2 packs of Marlboro
A day? You don’t? Why not try it?
Let me see your choice of words,
(reads the poem again)
There is nothing in here that
Makes you different from the rest
Of us, smokers and drinkers and
Gamblers. What makes you think
You are not like us? Huh?
(crumples the paper where the
poem is written and leaves,
he picks it up and smoothens it
folds it like his blanket and slides
it in his pocket like a paycheck)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem