A long truck came to where
Wrestler's muscle lot waited daily
For their bread
They swarm it as it swung open
Its tailboard.
The inside full of goods
Packs of soaps and packs of fruit drinks
And toilet tissues and an old spare tyre
Perhaps for eventuality on the rough road.
They loaded the goods away
On their backs and in wheel barrows
They were half clad, only on boxers
And manhood dangling in the market.
Macho muscles lot
Who refused to go to school.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hmmmm! Great poem. Great imagery. Thanks for sharing