Late Night
The woods in the fireplace is glowing embers,
promise nothing but an ending. In a yard a dog
bark to hear its loneliness, I tell it to stop it hears
me, curls up and goes to sleep. I take a safety pin
thread its needle end through my ear lobe and
I do the same with the other ear.
The blood is white like water, painless and
impartial. I look in the mirror and see nothing
that looks like a pirate. No escape from boredom
and I remove the pins. The dog’s wakes from its
slumber, barks. My ears hear Nirvana’s echo
rippling on the shores of eternity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem