Back in the '70's
there were
prize winning
poets
who strode
the sidewalks
of the city
like mighty
colossi.
Like______, for instance,
or _______.
OK, it's true
I can't remember
their names,
and they're all dead
to a man
or woman.
And nobody cares
what they wrote
or bothers
to read them.
And all their
mutual back scratching
and frantic
self promotion
has finally come
to
naught.
So you're a writer?
Do you want
other people
to take you
for that
or do you
want to take
yourself
for one?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very thoughtful portrayal. We have nurtured our interest in literature based on the feedback that we have received through sources right from children's magazines to more serious readings. We cannot recall all the writers but it does not minimise their contribution. You have raised a very important point. Thanks for sharing.