We eat in this Hellenic pseudo sphere
The salt day seasoned bacon baguette
Particular Greek blonde with dark streaks
And shadpwed 'Eh' a glissando darkens
Trim performance in black and white
As diheveilled forks arrange endless talk
English adequacy not our mysterious understanding
Their laughter their business their world
Lost black eyes he still limps
To troubled hips white shirt tapers
Undone collar medallion weaves silver glints
Fine chest hair made a modesty
At the corner table actors snugged
Fabric rehearses thigh curve promise
V necked theme chest hair mist
Chips and ketchup hear a confession
Reclining, relieved, critical, ginger hair thinning
Spooning her latte giving audience
Her mute husband her mute grandson
A domain stated under blue influence
Their formal youth accepted, ties shirts
A statement loud of large buttocks
A table presented and menus introduced
Immediate the satisfaction of wishes, orders
Hellenic the connection of the air
The seeking service of these exiles
An orchestra of a lost drama
Their world their laughter their business
Entrapment stalks white in this premise
Large light lost abounds wall imprisoned
A single standing a single staring
Passing the longing of the street
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice poem; embedded with strong imagery.