Using make-shift patterns left over from yesterday,
wanting to add a nostalgic aroma to something old
and tested from the past.
Taking the designs and clipping them into subjective
themes to see if they'll fit the new scheme of things.
Reality setting in and becoming the backdrop to all
of the rhythm being manufactured right now, this
moment.
Testing the fidelity of the last of major portions
of substantial dreams now being lived in tones of
music.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem