as if the head is filled
with stale porridge
moldy and inert
what i call a no-brainer
a person of no opinion
control-forced to be polite
at all times in all circumstances
what i call a non-human
never even a bit aware
of truth and beauty
and all horror and death
what i call a non-life
'non-life' © 2013 Rob Knetsch
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem