Staring into the eyes
of hatred itself,
A nuisance,
On ugly pavement.
Lie down,
As big as possible
To fend off he.
On days unlike today,
a hideous blasphemy.
Against Christ.
No sense in anger.
On the Roofs of other galaxies,
Attenuated to the harmonies.
An impossible target,
A skilled marksman would miss.
A fluke of vagary
An opportune hobo,
The one,
For a minute.
Set songs,
Set times,
Set dates,
Set yourself against another;
Pick a foe.
For now is the battle for your life,
Only you can help yourself.
Rise like bread to the boil,
In a yeasty consistency,
You will bagel.
Victory tastes like defeat.
There are a million more battles,
Winning is ephemeral.
You are the sometimes victor.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem