Half- naked insane transient
Seated on the shoulder of the road
He's clearly enjoying life
Despite the fact there's no one at the other end of his animated conversation
Shirtless but he's not Christ
Just unclaimed and broken
Talking to himself on the shoulder of the road
I find an honesty in his public insanity
Spare me from idiots acknowledged as thus
But also spare me from idiots who think they're clever
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem