Jesus Father Inside Of Mary
Combing her skulls lost hair
stopping her pleasure more.
Slipping on unmentionables
fluids smelling crusting.
I bend down and rifle her
socks where we kept our
treasures.
Her crack pipe slides out
I hold her short life in my hand
the best goes up in smoke.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem