Impermanence of stone butterflies,
This another night puts its reasons to my lips,
And there are relatives in their graves:
I don’t know where grandfather is buried,
But I know how to get to Disney World; and I have
My ritual put to work by the light of day,
That uncommon light like a sea of light shining on
All of this species- This mobile of tailless masses,
And what does it mean, but it is so easy to ask that;
It is so easy to pretend to perceive the mundane,
But I am just trying to impress the opposition of my
Species: I am doing the same thing as baseball players,
Principals, and astronaughts;
I am trying to dress up for her in the park, to dress her
Down;
And I have been drinking my liquor and dreaming of
Shaving my head, of being a husband to Diana who doesn’t
Love me,
But loves her homeless captains, and how long will it last:
Will there be similar fairies in the morning,
Soliciting over the parks and the avenues where the serene
Cars drive; the little lights in the grottos of witchcraft,
The little trails she bleeds, the perfume of her footsteps;
And that is why I get drunk, and don’t have a family:
I am waiting for something that cannot happen:
I am waiting to buy a house, and become the ghost of her love,
The memory of her sweet flower plucked before it
Could open and given to its cartoon mouse.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem