All of the spoken light told
To the girls of the world,
Spoken into the windows where
They used to work:
Now all of the lights are out
And she is hungover in the billfords
Of the places that don’t have
To pretend to exist:
Another light shatters the abutments,
Sunken ships going down to their
Beds of death amidst the trees
And the movie theatres that glow and
Glow—
New species found in the trailer parks
Of the mountains—
And new ways in which to love
Old species
That are on the move from burned out
Homes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem