I'm in the twenties, still...
the architecture's real,
the country's unsullied,
the old McKim Mead & White
RR station is still at
W 34th & 8th Ave..
New York is Old York
for me. I am now
on my way
to the Village;
Miss Millay
wishe's an audience
of me, JUST ME!
This for a vivified
reading on 'First Fig.'
Of course, I'll have to
remain reticent, it's mandated
and by forces beyond we.
She was extraordinary,
actually eminent,
but still can't
hold a candle...
to me.
Presumptive silly-nice
.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem