way back in the corner
of a dark cold fridge
there is a beverage
sitting there quietly
in the home
of a west coast woman
rarely,
it does come out
and is opened
for a few moments
and a few drops
are poured off
then the lid goes
firmly back on
and the flask
with its potent
contents goes back
into retirement
meanwhile the right
hemisphere runs her life
in a frenzied fashion
going overboard
while the bills
go unpaid
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem