Give me two units of whole wood
Am lacking adequate space, so
give it to me by the inches...
Kiln dried and in cross sections.
Ride the buzz saw - split into planks
Don't add too much salt, it's bad for
one's diet... just like a lumber house
Have accumulated too many odds & ends.
Two-by Four carrying conspirators
Would just as soon smack you
upside your head... this is not a
paranoid theory - watch your back.
And if that weren't bad enough
They drag your two-bit carcass
to market, put you on display
Then sell your soul for a buck ten.
'2008'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem