a few meters from here
where i am writing
the peace of this town
is a little bit disturbed
by the song of Bob Marley
or his look-alike in that
known house of ill-repute
where the women make
love with you in bed
where the men also take
other men instead
those that smell like pigs
are given soap and water
and a sachet of shampoo
on dim lights and cubicles
happiness is bought
for a very cheap rice on
these hard times
and as the Bob Marley song
is played the bursts of
the Fourth of Julies happen
the women have deep sunken
eyes and so are the men
prostitutes
this is a peaceful neighborhood
decent and responsible
until the hard times came
throwing away whatever education
is left, whatever values remain
the bodies become commodities
for the meal of the day....Sadly.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem