Electricity has nervous fingers
That tickle, with a tiny purr-
Though razor sharp, when nearer comes-
To gore you, like a raging bull.
Magnetic too; holds you to breast,
As though to caress tender flesh-
And flays you living, till you're cooked-
Then serves you up, as it's best dish.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Patti nicely penned keep it up