Wildcat caught
in the spotlight
of the poem
eyes staring anger
at me blind
behind light.
Now on his face a grin
(of pain?)
as under the aim
of my intent
his body’s ripped
to syllables.
Is the head
(rigid, lifeless,
still
grinning)
worth mounting on paper
walls of my world?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem