Today When I born Three Magi Came to see me. One brought A speech Another one, A painting The Third one, A poem. I am waiting For those Guests Who would Gift me with A cross and A thorny crown. How predictable The world looks Even from this Cradle. The forty watt bulb Still baptizes me With its Yellow light. My mother’s Nipples still Have those Swastika signs on them. That’s why I, like all the times, Refuse to grow. Don’t tease me I can break your Ear drum with my Scream.