A depressed Rumanian poet writes that he wished he were a tomcat
If he were a tocat, would climb snow covered roofs, scritch to wake up housewives, chase case to have many little kittens. When he forgets to die, next to a beerjoint in the slums, he lays dead in a ditch.
The poem was traslated from Rumanian by George Liebermann, M.D., and reviewed by Susan Gero.
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