certain days
i really feel like writing
something
anything
mostly i write in compressed
hurried drunken time
chasing jesse owens whisps of folly
in stumbling steel toed boots
affected, drugged and out of shape
old and disfigured
in body and soul
and when i trip that eggplant
i hold him down forcefully
demanding a urine specimen
the public can't have human heros
there has to be a reason for excellence
and it cetainly isn't following the rules
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem