How commonplace this job has become,
carrying out the basket of the guillotine.
Makes it easier, or so it sometimes seems.
Hopefully, it is not wicked mindlessness.
Better to be blind, than possess such a mind.
Rather be simpleminded in my banality
than have inability to see the ordinary.
But, sometimes my head rattles at its seams.
Maybe, inside all these severed heads,
there are cosmos
just like they are inside of me.
If so, how very sad a useless collection,
all as functional now as
And I, well, I was so erudite.
I wonder if for them, I can have ability
to speak so very eloquently.
Easier to keep mine attached
stupid as it is
and clump theirs together
Published by Black Heart Magazine, February 2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem