a jar on an edge that with a slight push
falls and breaks into pieces,
a sparrow's egg on its nest between the twigs
of the guava tree
a coke bottle put inside the freezer (for he
knows that it will crack, and he does not like to
see broken glass and spilled colored water
inside the frozen floor)
a watermelon on the table with all the possibilities
that it will roll and crush itself on the kitchen floor
a little boy in the middle of the road's curve and there
is a high speeding bus coming...
my papa is not weird after all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem