The fire breathing penguins sit in slippers
to forge their breakfast from granite kippers
entertained by the dancing of a light bulb's toes
and the singing of an eggplant rose
The music was performed by the polar Eagles
flying south to date a bear
carrying with their eyes a pack of beagles
donated by the juggling mare
Her claws cut through the onion hooks
designed to be read through the sole of a moo
forgotten by the potato books
who were biting their ears to please a shoe
The laces have sold their hair for a day
to a parasitic sand bacon rind
now it's time to run away
before I rush in to my mind
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem