Observe the motion
of the machine
feel the liquid
church fold itself
around you
As a child in the
placental fluid
warm comfort/
a cleansing
contrition
Feel the motion
of the machine
rhythm pulsing
through the veins
drains the mind
of conscious thought
plunges into the
realm of dreams
and
who will love
the machine?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem