The sun is amiss and cotton
brings a male
A man, a moon that constantly
plays tricks
And the big black hole makes
it's debut
It runs and it runs until forever
is through
The harder to try, the more it
expands
Stars and grass and visions of
hands
Crypt notes on breathing an
air that's gone stale
Sighs and cries for the sun
went on sale
Going, going, gone missing
Lingered for an apple despite
of it's hissing
Eyes for bites of more than
can be chewed
Is a cork from a bottle never
to be unscrewed
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem