Spicy smell metamorphoses
in the garbage.
The same chunk that stimulates
the taste buds
induces nausea. This is a bin
of dual relief.
As the darkness falls on the bare
reality, an arm
stretches through the hole
that nobody tries
to caulk. The stray man picks up
a gnawed chicken
leg bone, a scrape of fried mackerel,
some steamed rice
mixed with reddish yellow curry...
He recycles the
junk. Hunger can burn away
any disgust.
First appeared in The Literary Hatchet
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem