Finally a wage for our trade in open arms,
wishes and fine, handsome eternities.
A book and then God!
A smile then a plush, revealing nod to
tempt and extract our lone appeals
Give us wit and a suit that's cellulose
armour!
A planchette and the plug,
God with tags
or dog
that wags
Before it is taken
and fire licks our paper
dragons.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I really like it... a lot