Well, you know…
OK, this is not
like I want to be rude
this morning
by matching your 70
against my 72
I don't drivel
as much as you
but mind you
my rant is as much
a poem
as your spiel is
and despite my cutting
the grass
under your feet,
not that you need
a soft place
to land,
I need
the crumpled grass
from beneath
your big feet
in my pipe
while writing this,
for inspiration, you know.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem