Everything between
this world and the next
blinks feebly in the roots
of the rotting teeth of the
heads of a frightened crowd
running down an unlit alley to
reach a closed liquor store.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A refined poetic imagination, W. C. G. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.