I’ll tell ya wadda want
Wadda really really want.
I wanna’ play the poet
Read my unrhymed tetrameters
To small appreciative groups,
Who’ll ‘mmm’ after
One of my poignant and
Unrelenting moments.
I’ll tilt my head at a poetic angle,
Catch the artificial light
Against my reflective side.
I’ll draw breath,
Take pauses,
Let the subtleties
of my classical references
creep across the landscape
of my thought drenched face.
And as the audience prepare
To acknowledge my work
In a ripple of polite applause,
I’ll dip my gaze to the sawdust floor,
Place cool fingers on to the pages
Of my thin volume
And clasp to my bosom
My zig-a-zig aaaah!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem