She taught Nanny
and I taught Edie,
Nanny was a sweetie,
and Edie wore a mini.
I had never heard
of Vonnegut,
and had no time
to read his books.
But this I knew:
he was a man
who was loyal
to his kin.
I heard Ferlinghetti read
Dove Sta Amore;
I wish Kurt
had heard him too.
Cat's Cradle,
God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater
Slaughter-house Five
Breakfast of Champions
The only book
I wish he'd written
I would have read
but, of course, he didn't:
he asked this question,
he was the answer,
his were the words,
his books his vision:
dove sta amore
dove sta amore
where lies love
oh, there love lies
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem