A reef of history built around a sphere:
I thinking of in the middle of some high school's class
In the preternatural day—
Eyes haunted like ghosts on billboards
Underneath of where lovers traffic through the grass
On so many legs,
As fireworks move up against the highway
And students plagiarize, get married, and learn to
Reciprocate with the opposite desks
In the cul-de-sacs of a music box:
They realize there, blistering—
Chapping their own lips as their pencils chisel the
Circumference of a well: they take tests—
The ghosts fizzle, juggle fading balls, and weep
In the corner of the portable hotel room:
As outside,
Foxes leap higher and high for grapes painted like
Nipples in the sky.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem