(i)
In a maze
of flamy tongues
stuck out,
as spiky hands
grip him
with tightened pliers
of finger nails
thrusting off
horns of questions
he cannot blow
with sharp flying
gales of whips.
As he chokes
croaks
from a dry
cracking throat
and chops up
his snivels
into pieces of rock
burning
with glow
and flames
from eyes hurling
out arrows
with flying gazes.
.
(ii)
More bumps
creep on his body
and rise
to hills of swellings
sloping
with saw-edged
scratches
and squiggles.
And sculped-out
discs of scars
clothed in frog skin
settle and lie
on him,
the crocodile
to swallow him soon.
More whips
from cloudy hands
fall on him
with the stormy
muscles
of heavy cactus,
its saw edges
cutting through
with a razor's run.
As sun
on his temple
and gorge
of deep cheeks
flees to the edge
of a cave
in a deep cliff.
(iii)
Thorns of slight
and wasp-lipped
scolds
land and dig
with eagle beaks
and nail-headed
crawling claws
into conscience's
flesh woven
into stones
and sandy pebbles
of parading blisters
riding through skin
to brittle, clicking
bones swelling
beneath thickened flesh,
but the man
swells into a thick
feathered hawk
and takes off
in a flash of lightning
into the creeks
of a starred firmament.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem