In your name I leave
the refrigerator half empty.
Fresh air blows through windows
resorting partially written
pieces of my days.
Swimming in clear water
can be difficult, so I must
lay in the rain, soaking up
what remains of
unspoken truths.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thanks for sharing this brilliant ode to poor Bill Kanouse!