O you look at me like I was some kind
Of exotic animal in a zoo.
You consider my frames of reference
To be incredibly obscure.
You don't seem to be able to think
Beyond these present times.
Well that seems to be
The way of the world these days:
Where casual signs are worshipped
& profound symbols are marginalised.
True poetry is maverick gold dust;
Amidst a cartoonised, cultural landscape.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem