a less than perfect messiah talks a
little nonsense out the side of his mouth.
' i was chosen at the wrong time'
or so the sunburst washed sign read.
thin and so very tall the prophets of
propaganda walk through the city with
legs of aluminum and mouths of paper.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is clever. You have an unusual way of anthropomorphizing things that I enjoy..