Raw sewage with a drizzle of whipped cream
(hello,
how do you do?)
Necessary coverups for necessary means
(greetings,
conveyed are untrue)
With all this sugar I can hardly smell the garbage
With all this cream I hardly feel the disease
(I'm good,
How about you?)
Coats of preservatives for earthly concerns
When preservatives fail
Fetch me an urn
Death within Protocol is all we can ask for
At the wake we smiled
Old sewage recycled
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem