Art student or dashing sleek lass
Which are you
Which do you yearn to be
Or like me
A serenity seeker
Addicted to temporary loneliness
Wade in this airy temple
Where doom disappears
And escapes arrive between the ears
The inexplicable tricks that
Post-modernism can play
On a ragged psyche
So Lassie, I salute you
Honk, err, sigh
If you feel the same.
(5/6/10)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem