Another boring day
Everything is what it seems
without fantasies
I'm not like professor T
who makes Jeroen Bosch paint
what is going on:
everything embodied
as what it is and therefore
transparent
The city is large, but small
is my view, as if
we live far away from each other
in spaceships, built-up
areas as small as hamlets
where the truth is close
but all the harder
to be seen, to be tested, and to be said
There is no way out
I can't escape
only dream without running
into danger in the outside world
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem