i wont have more furrows
on my forehead
no deep ocean dives to thought
squeezing juices from my
orange brain
cutting my bones like some
sugarcane
losing myself to an
ethereal world
i am not anymore enjoying
this craft
this wish to become one kind
of a famous writer
i have enough of these
but i am not quitting
i will wiggle and wrangle and
strangle and bangle
free wheel
nothing serious
filly willy hilly dilly
i just like to write
and i don't really care
if you like it
until you dropp dead
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem