In from the cold.
They have not chosen me
they have chosen salami
for breakfast, only
because I’m a thin sliced
chicken breast.
Have they no taste!
Bread crumbs and spies
sitting outside eating salami
on crusty bread,
miles away from real butter.
While just around the corner
there is a deli
selling salt beef and pickles.
Have they no taste!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem