Emergency vehicles
I read a poem
Another daily share:
"The emergency vehicles will come…"
Specified: "the slow ones…"
Then it talked of chest
Its door broken open…
And the things inside her…
Oh my chest…
Where am I?
What have I shelved in you?
Experience or kindness?
Are you racked, organized?
Are you mysterious like my mind?
Is there a door to you?
A window to see through?
I want you dead, stopped
Flesh rotten and eaten by the worms
Bones sucked on by the dogs
Skin decoloured autumn leaves.
I want you thrown in sea
Osama…
But also want alive
By writing, film making
If wisdom and if wise…
What difference makes ambulance?
Or fire truck or pigs' car?
All nonsense!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem