Deserted by Alfred
It was not my fault I had no shoes
And the police stopped and asked and since it was none of their business
I naturally told them eff off.
was handcuffed and put in a police car, - which was more cooling than
the asphalt, after all, it was October in Albufeira.
I thought this is a perfect movement when a father defends his son
but Alfred who refuses to be my father had gone home
I was left to explain this ridiculous case, but luckily the Portuguese
police force felt sorry for me and let me go.
Next day I bought a pair of sneakers in a Chinse shop and my father
who refuses to be my father was wearing my leather uppers.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem