the thick air
looms
like moisture
on the upper lip
of a Tennessee Williams
chanteuse
in need of Southern Comfort
past her prime
she peels off
what's left
of her composure
like her false eyelashes
she has come
unglued
she has listened
to one radio station
too long
has drown in the
tunnel of love
and wants more
than a penny
for her thoughts
her tired taxi dancing dogs
have turned into flats
wishing for a kitten heels
she applies her lipstick
once again
tracing the memory
of his last kiss
then walks downstairs
to order
the usual
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem