A sea shell that can’t be found by the sea shore
You’re, about as deep as a paper door
With as much substance as an empty store
Like that guy they named a movie for
Or, piggy banks and chocolate rabbits
Not like monks, nuns, and habits
Your soul is void like winter jackets
In June, you’re as see-thru as tennis rackets
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem