Poems find a space for themselves
in chaos.
Poems are the wormholes
of universal imagination
Poems can be dense black holes,
points in space where nothing can escape
their attraction.
Poems can measure entropy
by the amount of disorder
in their word system
Poems want to be tachyon particles
travelling faster than the speed of light
instant universal metaphors.
Poems are waves of sound and light
diffracting through any little crack
in the wall
Poems mutter
that they need to matter.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem