Woe begotten thumb-sucking
infant house
Your parents have divorced.
In your sky-high roof rafters
steel nappies
Blow in the mad wind.
Empty-paned eyes
stretched across
whale-wide vistas.
Flapping silver bandages
call attention
to your unlovability.
Your ears stick out too much
your constant hunger
invites marauders.
You must feel it so
an accident from birth
no one to hear your wails.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem