A toast to the boasting rant.
Bluster dusting those in whispered chants.
Scatting with street corner bravado...
Being rodomontadinous.
And caring less that it shows.
Hosting ego with a glide that one prides.
As if awarded a grand prize,
For such flagrant obnoxiousness loved.
A performance that seems to fit like a glove.
And observers stare with pen and pad.
Aware that fresh air should be noted,
Before it disappears from their disguises.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem