Paedophile
What I do with orphans
-is work of pedophile
Poor and weak and small
-are the kids all in all
I picked them on Bathurst
-gave them ride with respect
At home chose one by one
-flirted with them all
Went through every part
-from back to front…
Smiled and set fingers
-in cracks, and wetted
Made them use my own voice
-every word honey-comb
They spoke of parents
-kept secrets of lovers
How many? How deeply?
-none opened mouth to say
One mentioned Plato
-with the men in circle
Some knew the poems
-of poet and poets
One taught me critique
-and other of tummy
The orphans that I picked
-are friends, great books
Keep busy my eyes, mind
-"Who left them? " I know not!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem