Question..It's so Emily!
How does one find the time Emily,
with all of these one, two or three liners.
Is it the guilty connivance, that blows the
breeze through the leaves of your touch,
with your ever guinness smile?
One night stands, rock and roll bands,
drinks to cool magics smoke filled hands.
Still I peck away, when instead I should be
filled with buffs of mystery that must elude it's thrill.
Poet Emily, poor poor bootless Emily,
you know what you wanted it was just all the others
that washed in your mysterious hands.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem