The Kama Sutra for the Hideously Ugly is not something I will ever read.
Technique is all very good, but beauty’s what I need.
It’s a complicated subject—why
does beauty matter? What advantage for my eye?
Whether I roam through the words of my poetry
or look for food—
what do I even mean by beauty? A strange mood?
Something I love for itself—and not for me?
I don’t know what beauty is good for—
I shouldn’t talk about it anymore.
I’ll write something beautiful for my reader
before they kill—for their glorious leader.
Beauty can be as simple as sleeping on the ground
or a poem—and the poem’s sound.