Pink rocks along the dry river
currents of the fiasco father
some hatred looks like ionized blue
they wanted a shill of the collective
i escape with a sea shell
conscience takes me far from you
drifting like crows in the summer
you follow art that isn't hurt
Sun on the naked torso
Earth turns with such pain
Freedom in the libra wind
Purple tears on the pink rocks
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem