In my head, I've got her
tied to a post, blindfolded
and I stand a perfectly fair
ten meters off, with a rifle
loaded full of my poems,
and I fire away at her.
When it started, she
seemed really scared,
even crying a little,
but now, I've missed her
so many damn times that she
is laughing herself silly
and I am starting to worry
that the post may finally
shake itself free
of the ground
before I get around
to loading up the one
that will do her in.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem