I flick through
a carpet pile
of envelopes, bills
paper, poetry
A4pads and words
and then
I laugh though
I shouldn’t so
I’m told:
at requests
demands
final …
and they
Cry
for skin, for flesh
for blood
for breath
They cry
for strength
for mind, for time
and for my death
even so
I will deliver
the minute
I’m ready
Puke out
pay up
Money
in lieu of
life
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem