the spirit of boredom
went inside her and these she did:
talking to a friend in Canada using
her cell phone for an hour and i do not
know if her friend is listening to her
sleeping the whole day and waking up
all night eating junk food
entering to the door of depression and
imagining all the kinds of sickness in this world
saying that she is dying and that she need not
be buried and that her body to thrown to the sea
to be fed to sharks
sitting the whole afternoon in the veranda staring
to the vast empty space asking if the moon is
in the dark sky
i want to help her but what can i do,
i am bored too.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem