key rattle, chain rattle, a keychain rattles
hanging from my pocket, it sways back
and forth as i walk keeping time.
keeping the metronome and sundial
disk near to me, nearer to me still is
my life so precious to me.
key rattle, chain rattle, a keychain
rattles half hidden half slanting..
falling..descending.. calling.
this way and that it sways igniting under
the burning disk.
starting engines within, starting cyclones
of hardened gravity without that pull with
cement fingeres at my shadow and
grasp at my skin.
crumbling sidewalks, wrinkled skin that cannot
repel the infinite blows of this solar suicidal verse.
now veins seperate the blood on this vine of mine,
traveling down into the aged cellar.
where the timeless sinews of the heart
shelter every visiting creation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem