Tearing Points
The way teenage girls
scream
when they go mad
about their pop singers
I want them
to do the same
even if it's a quarter as loud
when they see
one of my artworks.
I want my canvases
to tear
with that special
ripping sound
the way a glass shatters
when Ella Fitzgerald
stretches her vocal chords.
Of the sounds
I want to compose a symphony.
A brouhaha
of crisscrossing rips
not unlike the sounds of fluffs
of old people.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem