flatiron-shaped with a verdigris cupola
in the northeast-facing corner of the roof garden
pineapple sage and violets
seven german shepherds and
three blue russians
climb the stairs
claws clicking clacking rubatos
where the carpet doesn't quite cover the marble tread
the others have their butterflies and majolica urns
patinas of reverent lust
each balcony shelters
and exudes
a rhythm of its own
to wind about the wrought iron curliques
in a blend of musics and fragrances
ethical mishaps are recounted and blessed
savored
and set aside to ferment soundlessly
each an echo to be jarred and released
at a
later airing
yet another cloud of embroidery revealed
on a tapestry of whos, whys, wheres and laughter....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem