I'm spat out like spoiled gum
into the red street
where the dogs fight,
pidgeons are charred
by thier masters charred feet
I saw no embrace
and relief felt no pity
pouring petrol on skin
a white ghost
has been cleaning the soul
Blended by a shocking dagger
with aching loom
my child, inside alive
could always love another
And I've lost my golden blanket
that wrapped around a wallet
my woes are not forgotten
a poltergeist of Cotton
has happened to be near me
I lied to endearing knife
and cut the nails that held the fingers
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem