we weary.
we lose strength.
the world of the 1950's
is pure dream
scenes. tremendous
decades & then the prophetic
king crimson 21st century
schizoid man.
monster of amerika.
it all makes sense,
severe, scalpel-like
sense.
art
predicted
today, & art
predicts tomorrow.
we scar slower.
rubber of us
snaps open,
a balloon of blood
pours a pyramid
hearted by the diamond
of the self on the ground
where microbes grow
larger than worms.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem