We'll never get it done; every time I get ahead
with a text my desk receives another one, but
instead of worrying my guru says we should
rejoice because it means we cannot get it wrong;
Looking up terms for sentences on divulging a
criminal's secrets - in one huge explosion of self-
righteous emotion I stagger under impact of laden
lines that leave no room for contemplation or using
a grammatical compass to gets one's bearings, the
subject is quite clear then disappears under new
nouns apparently applicable to other people - or
is it nefarious deeds that are enumerated here,
the context is not clear, without framework
for interpretation I am lost and spluttering,
The world does not hold enough chocolate and -
coffee to help me ride this storm, my guru's words -
are lost in this mélee, after four cups of coffee I -
open my second chocolate for resuscitation by -
the creamy texture, the sugar and nuts that make -
me feel like a happy, counting-my-many-blessings -
human being again…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem