the monitor sucks the energies of
creation, and you who face this phenomenon
of addiction of having to write despite
the odds,
becomes a very dry parchment of
crocodile skin
removed from its fierce body
all sharpness pulled out
and on helpless gum
one must learn how to survive
under the hot suns of senseless
loving.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem