Nothing to write or plan for,
Spend or pay for,
Nor for pen, paper,
Just go on pressing the keyboard,
Writing this and that
To call yourself an internet poet,
Globally yours.
Lo, the poet as a chat man
Taking Indian chaat,
A talk man
Giving a talk,
Pressing the buttons
With the plugged in wires
Into the ears
As hear they music
From a mobile handset,
I am a disco dancer!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It is nicest of all