you followed the yellow
sport
coat all over the airport
knowing he was a spy
until both of you had to
take a leak and
his cheesy was next to
your bland leather
each hiding something
sour he
had a bulge the size of a
44 and you gripped a 7 inch
stiletto
(rubbing it up against your
cheek with salty grin)
then you both strolled to
the granite and washed
each other's hands in the
opposite sink
he put a microchip in your
front pocket and you put
a bitter smile in his ear
he walked out with his
head screwed on straight
and you looked in the mirror
with your fists clenched
and raged
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is well angry and real has a biting tone keep it up keep it up-