If it is true the 'fast food' is alive but killing me
so let it be,
but I can not help mourn dead humanity.
Who while looking alive are in reality quite dead
lacking what the French call elan vitale.
It came to me this evening at a fast food window
the kids were alive but dead,
I grieve and write this poem instead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem