What is poetry?
it's when I'm inspired to reflect
on things I see around me
observation of sorts
let me give you an example,
Why does this beautiful lady
that's sitting next to me on the bus have a Prada bag?
if she has a Prada bag doesn't she own a car?
is her Porsche in her garage, broken down?
maybe she doesn't have a car?
those posh bags cost a fortune
maybe she had to choose between the bag and the car?
then I start questioning…
why don't I have a posh bag?
well, poets don't need material objects or, are all poet's poor?
It doesn't matter what a bag is called right?
so just when I'm answering my own questions
the ugliest little dog pokes his head out
from under the loose diamond zip
my mind is now in overdrive…
so then I find myself reflecting on this point...
why on earth, would any woman in the world
spend that much money on a handbag
just to have it filled up with dog shit.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem