The strange tenement
that kept
the lower class elite
was filled with dreams of
cigarette smoke and high heeled
boots. The tourists yelled while the
maids tripped and felled thirteen
off duty police officers down an
escalator progressing in the wrong
direction. The garbage can
man hoped to make things easier by
licking the sweat from between his
warm area and applying it to the
aforementioned tool of
fornication, but this only
made the situation sticky
when the police cadet found
a hickey
in his portfolio,
which was not on his desk
the following day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem