Fragile ideas are rendered
benign and fruitless,
vacuumed away
in a thundrous whirlwind
invading my office.
Nowhere to run
except here...
the bathroom,
the sacrosanct;
the perfect creative place
for unmolested
primal thought;
the throne of powerful ideas.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem