I hate my father
I hate him when he climbs
the stairs and forgets
the door open
like a scalpel
in the cut and
goes down like that
and polishes the spoiler
of the most recent car
like a big snail
betrays with drool
its loving stone.
I hate this
Daddy
made of
dialysis and fernet liquor
who has a mess in his belly
Daddy, poo-poo.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem