the dry drain
burn-soaked tears cripple me
the pain smudges the purple night
moans thrum in me
i’ll wake and give a single scratch just like a tear
through all my anguish
and glass jar shards,
(like cracked fruit)
the pear pulled pressure
through grinding gears
and sullen puppets
i’d like to
poo
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem