For Prof. Stanisław Jaworski

The last poet is protected by intelligence service.

40 servicemen defend him as the last unicorn’s penis.

Days and nights.

And the poet writes his sarcastic view

On the guns, looking at his fantastic man’s nature.

His last poem.

Now the poet desires to liberate himself from his duties.

He wishes to go to another galactic,

Where there are pure views,

Not polluted with the poetical description,

Nor the sin of metaphors.

So, the poet puts the last full-stop in his last sentence.

The poet says farewell to the Earthlings.

Bye, bye, to the youths,

Who wave with enthusiasm with their avatars.

There is a problem.

NASA spaceships, with regard to saeurity reasons,

Are unable to transport last poets to the Space.

Nothing works. Neither requests,

Nor demands, nor blackmail.

The last poet has to stay on the Nevada desert

And write his last



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