I can't think,
I can't drink you,
out of this maze,
pavement rocks
and all that,
the girl gliding
past the window
catches herself,
and then again
off the car,
I wouldn't go that far,
but I would,
damn right - come
back this second,
I will confirm
your beauty all the way,
ha! ha!
mad *******!
look at myself
in silver liquid water,
and stir it up
until the look
itself breaks into
all different kinds
of shapes,
I'm not as pretty
as you, perhaps,
women are sacred animals of destiny's
that require lots
and lots of men's
looks, looking...
straining...wanting,
preparing...
oh! give us the vehicle,
beauty is for crashing
clean into walls...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem