Luciano
Some call him: "The Big Boss! "
To me he: "My shit, balls! "
Both good food for the earth
Prior brainless; and latter
Powerful in making the sperm
Powerless towards pain
One hard kick between legs
Right away I am dead…
In cone of their sketch
I live with the lowest
We are the labourers
And make a huge base!
Since I read, write, do films
Busy is my brain
Want body to be same.
But as a journalist
My ears listening
My eyes see, I make list
Draw charts and check in.
Most dislike of the names
Is corrupt at the top
Copy of Donald Trump
A multi-millionaire…
Destroys Mother Earth
Cuts trees of jungles
Tells to use Polymers, bitumen
Fools people, beautifies to make good profit…
Then come the top sitters
These slaves and leeches
Nothing but shit-brains…
They issue orders like:
"Insulate window-frames
Deliver the job done
By midday tomorrow! "
But building's last floors
Third and fourth "Are not built! "
What can one call them but: Stupid"?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem