First they come up
ever so close,
with protruding pink beaks
and very red sharp eyes,
breathing, seizing, smelling...
our visceral others,
excuse me your highness
but who smells your ***!
the almighty bright light,
opens like a dirty purse,
as a drop of clear liquid
thickening halts,
against the arch of a prized leg,
we've got all the eggs,
under the guise of a great
monstrous tree,
a snake in a tiz,
I will slip back and see...
'naturally',
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem