Perched upon a fence post-
apocalyptic war
The old men I meet tell TALL
TALES about how they had beaten time
management by
ending time itself
It’s sad…
The scales have tipped toward Styrofoam
Where the antelope used to roam.
Perched upon a fence post-
traumatic stress syndrome
The old men I meet tell TALL
TALES about how they won the war on
world hunger by
ending the world itself
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem