The worn out book sheets are flabbergasted
The pages that look up
Theories and substance play with philosophers, writers, novelists, and experts as if clearly broadcast
The cover and chapters that fell down seemed shabby and about to be reincarnated
Books and a few knick-knacks crash the arrogance
Footnotes and the author's work are squirming about to be swallowed by a disorganized brain
The bed bugs are about to get sick because the book has aged
While the evil stencils seem to be mesmerized by the shrewdness of the actresses and actors
And the burglar bugs turned to the stencil and groped the poor book
Those pages, chapters and illustrations can only scream at being raped and sodomized
While the ethically naked actors squirm and get aroused
Until finally the bed bugs devour the artist in the book
Actors seem to be aware and become salvatours for the despotism of pornism
An aesthetic-ethics to be offered and that is a selling point
11.09am after waking up, March 25,2004.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem