Some dumb Domino Dominici
who delivers pizzas
by order to Apus who make
more than him, his dad and mom
all combined, and lives in
some ramshackle shack in some
god cursed neighborhood of
a god cursed poor, filthy
city comes here as a critic
of poems, makes 4 letter comments
befitting his brilliance and
intelligence. A poet laureate
he calls himself.
He deserves good tips
for his pizza delivery.
As for his poetry, he
knows he's a poet laureate.
Kudos to Domino Dominici
Good boy of good parents.
One day he'll be in literature
a Nobel Laureate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem