the eternal anastasia lures me.
for, still remains within me
the ruins of my heart unexcavated.
my silver skies fell
on my drainage, dripping
ruddy wastes, tempting
to choke me to deliverance
i often stumbled upon
the tender fragments of my fleshy pump.
a shadow with a dangling snake
crawled over my oval windows.
hushh..dont even think about it.
but speak up, as it comes
like an ejection that
pours forth without the ridiculous swinging.
i call him a nasty creature with a tail
in the wrong direction
it will be fair to twist his head back wards
to make him a normal monkey,
one that outwitted Darwin.
i feel an orgasmic pleasure
to think about the foolish ape
who imitated the wise wayfarer
who rubbed the double-edged sword
against his neck to fool the ape.
and his death by imitation,
when will such a godly wayfarer
come to tempt this monkey
to a foolish ludicrous death? ? ? ? ? ? ?
so that I can die a laugh unto death..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
well... the snake- its hood. the tail twisted monkey. either you or me. your poem has strong expressions. congrats.