He is darker than most I admit,
fighting hard to crawl out of the shit,
what America sees
is the Moon made of cheese
and a caribou killer to wit.
I do pray that my wishes come true,
you'll be chosen to fix and renew
let the smelly fish die
and catch Sarah's big lie
guess who's now got the wood on you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem