I present crisp dollar bills and
a human deity.
Settling in the circle of dust, hands
and interlocked feet, making bitter
obeisance.
I search for new gods. My fathers’
gods left for the city.
So, I stand before translucent
beings in the seat of gods,
who grope for answers to the unsearchable
questions of my disillusioned heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem