freezer busted
on a hot August morn'
the veteran plumber
without a syllable spoken
skipped out the rear door
with his war torn knees
destination, the ice machine
a mere few blocks away
interrupted by the neon sign, which read
BAR
A few Pabst Blue Ribbons
flowed down his tube
with his last two quarters
he saved for ice
dropped them in the machine
we had ice
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem