Have you ever heard Saturday morning radio?
Is the radio programming different on Saturday morning compared to weekdays?
She dreads small talk and making his lunch
And another baby that arrives as a fecund abstraction
He has to work although it is the weekend
His lifeblood is measured out as resource and as response to her
They listen to Saturday morning radio with pre-existing bad attitudes
Because they are forced to be active when they should be at rest
They do not notice any particular change in this daily detail
But why do I force myself into roles that society mandates and which I receive no compensation for?
This is family and this is work and both obscure identity
Waiting for the oddity that comes out of nowhere
And forces us to take a minute to appreciate the sun over our heads
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem