Did Bolden come out of Slaughter?
Or did the butcher get him?
Made into meat patties
To fill the space between the sliced bread buns
With all the trimmings that make a delectable burger.
The societal fabric turned an abattoir
First battered his bones then sliced his flesh.
Till the pages remain intact and the print readable- He remains...
Many are the figures, the stories, the shapes, and the noise...a music made to words.
Text made rhythms.
Movements told through the stringing together of alphabetical characters.
Language is a deliverer.
Very likely became the meat axe that minced his brains.
Till the pages remain-
He will sit in page 156.
Sitting with his monologue, grey walls surrounding.
Said as,31 years old.
Having got, nor getting 'no prizes'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem