Are you happy with it?
I asked the smiling man,
his head nodding, so fast,
I could not catch his
Maddening eyes.
Are you happy with it?
I asked the sitting lady,
as she rocked squeakily,
paper-bagged bottle,
splashing down her drunken legs,
but I could not sharpen her blur.
Are you happy with it?
I asked the limping child,
its lop-sided neck,
angling the world to 45,
yet even there,
she only grinned
by degrees.
Are you happy with it?
I asked the patient,
strapped to a white bed,
pulls, pipes and promises,
dragged out of his soul,
as his stare spoke
a steep silence.
Are you happy with it?
I asked the reflection,
while speeding into a vacuum.
It looked familiar,
almost me,
but afraid to change pace,
he just mouthed NO.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
r u happy with it? ? ?