I'm going to be a burger;
Minced feelings, words and whatever else
Will be compressed
By the new tupperware burger press.
Someone arrives to scoop me out and
dropp me onto the shaping tin.
Tupperware circle gather together and
Let the compression begin.
Pressure, pressure, pressure;
If I had a head, I would scream.
All my minced feelings, words and whatever else,
Now compressed for someone to eat.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem