DRAGGLES, drones, and
mis-shifted yaps, theres
a vally between her legs,
and you the perfect saint, ...
MUMBLING, bumbling, and
drones that dont speak,
theres a edge to her
body, and you, the perfect
saint,
AND every one clap your
hands,
AND every one get out of
your seat,
AND every one say out loud,
that this love is for keeps.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem