Oh, I agree with you.
In the old days libraries were cathedrals.
Now they're Big Brother Houses
where shelf-stackers smirk at drunks'
drivel-soliloquies.
So torch your courtesy.
Strangle every 'Thank you' in your throat.
Vulcan a new
concentration from fury,
the calm of assassins
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem