ADRIFT, in my bed room map,
there are ghost here, and keys
full of sweat and rust.
ADRIFT, transfixed in blue, there
are stripes here, and mirrors
that laugh and yell.
BACK off, clip on a halo..
back off, and let the fat
lady sing.
ADRIFT,
adrift,
stop.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
DAVID...'BOUT TIME YOU JOINED TH'SHOW...NICE PIECE....BEAM ME OP 'FORE YA LOGOFF'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''FRANK