how can he
possibly notice that there
is a cockroach
swimming in his
bowl of
noddles?
or the white pebble
on the pond of his
shifting preferences?
or the rose tattoo on the
left thigh of the woman that
he slept with
last Friday night?
it's his own credit card
that he minds
not some dust inside
the seat of his car
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem