starbucks at pier 29,
god of thunder in my veins.
faster to reason in the blinding
light of someone elses sorrows.
i may sorrow a little for you yet.
is this cloth in my hand yours?
i may tear it a little.
before my mothmans hunger
grows distant. to distant for either
of us to understand or relate...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem