Flat screen televisions intensify the
image in high definition to satisfy
the minds of Ritalin children who once
were partial to the penwork of poets
poisoned with Prozac and ink thats
black and blue and red with blush like
virgins deflowered fearful of
rejection from a world made of megapixels
where plasma dreams are aborted
by a nightmare called reality.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem