You phoned me from a mental institution
I was in Caernarfon
The smell of fish makes me vomit
You assaulted my ears
With your complaints
Not enough padding in your cell
Plastic knives and forks
No fish for supper
(you may intentionally choke on the bones)
I put the phone down
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem