I arrived late for
dinner
but i still had that
empty chair for me
which i took
with ease as though
it is by all intents
for the moment mine
there is too much
on the plate which i
did not eat, too much
on my glass
the night is deep
and shallow with its
irony of lesbians
singing
and kissing and
drinking
as they fill that room
forgive me
i am still a hand
skewed as i hold
my own bottle of
beer
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem