called, inclement
and
tournequed
from
root of grass....leaves of absentia...
warlords...some had laid down their trojans....
rode the search lights
beamed to the multi-tasking...
asking
for supplements, wind and waterfalls....
a chair..with arms...a gavel
and
a page.....
collected bevies and levies.....
plucking corsairs
and
building silos.....
rum
to be run...to be run...to be run...................
foundations
must
be built..... of something.............
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem