Wine;
my stained teeth,
tart tongue .
My blood,
my grape blood.
Feet,
forever churning;
feet for mouths,
for taste.
I’ll swim in red,
yodel or sing opera;
gargle with snobs,
agree on fur,
be forgotten with a brown paper bag.
White and the other extreme;
surrender white,
head hole white;
marine feast partner.
Mateus;
one of some, some of the other; life and death
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I'm actually a Mateus, nice job my man.