We were sitting on
The curb in Brooklyn - Having a smoke
Outside of Pratt Art Institute-
We were talking about
What was to come in
Our lives-
I was vulnerable-
I had just broken
Up with my someone
& I said to you,
'I want to major in creative writing at Oswego, but I don't know if I'll find a job with that kind of degree after I graduate.'
You tilted your head-
Stared off into space for a moment
& I can still remember the way your lips moved when you said,
'I think you should do whatever makes you Happy.'
In your soft - breeze - like voice
& My father had told me the same thing when I was a young boy,
But not like this - Not like the way you had said it-
I felt as if I was lost
& Like I was right where I belonged at the same time
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A narrative poem about particular topic so well arrange, read my O my Almighty and thought and other, I am viting for you