Polonious published beneath tapestry threads,
perverted voyeur of unmade beds.
Percival en route aback holy steed
bristling beard gorged with sour mead
Persephone spinning stalwartly sin
with pom juice dribbling down her chin.
Pruffrok scuttling beneath timely jaws,
he should have been a pair of ragged claws.
Pilot washes in dirty fountain flower,
for nothing smells sweeter than judgements hour
Prokiev sent star-crossed lovers through pirouette,
poison ampoule smeared daggers silhouette.
Pollack painted raw nerve exposed to light socket swill,
jazz notes and brush strokes with limitless space to fill.
Paris shrunk within trenchant zeal.
and found his eye on achillies heel.
Pasternak rode rail under lanterns turned in
preached about the histories failing to begin.
Pandora, Pandora let down your rope,
with box anchored deeply burried by hope.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem