Club Ariel.1982.
In a darkened room
coloured beams
project idols upon a wall.
New Romantics pose.
Lift a well-waxed brow.
Cigarette holders waft pale plumes
that pirouette in perfumed air.
Eyes slant to and fro.
Seeking, assessing.
Music pounds in time to a hearts beat.
An arm is raised. A hand beckons.
Across a savage landscape.
Eyes lock.
One walks away,
back as forbidding as a wall.
One slumps in dejection.
His pose that of Chatterton
as dreams die.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem