nothing
in reality
real
about that
nothing
but
the dominant dormant
frame of mind
little gots put in bottles
like little gods wiped away
a the soles of never worn shoes
nothing
in reality
real
about that
nothing
but
accordingly sub-
atomized
mariners lost
little specks of dust
like little drifts of heart
a soul never worn still filled
ith blues
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem