I believe in stone more than
promises or petty things like wishes.
In rain and fire and the warmth of
red wine and whiskey. I've thought
Of gods and demons
decided I prefer lightning storms,
what a road smells like after rain.
How tracing telephone lines and
staggered paint across the country
brought more hope than any song
sung about a god.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem