All of the beauty of the cars beside the
Road—
The happenstances of the day of truants
Strung out,
The waves dancing like belly-dancers—
And not a single one of
Them knowing what
They are—
Tourists heading to Disney World
Sweating like ice-cream,
The youngest of the children in
The back seat wondering
What they are—
Rockets in the sky,
Red astronauts trying to forget her
Birthday—
The Earth turns its back,
As dolphins dream of roses
In the sea.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem