Nothing has changed
She sleeps under the Stonebridge
Long structure like a snakes skeleton
Her eyes like the night-lights of Paris
I try so hard to penetrate
The city has a huge morgue
We are the inheritors of Kafka
Dreams of Dali
All the towers have art
Everyone seems high on hustle
Everyone sleeps in foggy shelters
The East River looks like a witch
Long Island doesn’t want bipolar painters
Her social worker still smokes
Her kid is on antidepressants
Orthodox Jews go to bed early
Winter is coming like a new Broadway play
She tells me she has gone celibate
She looks better, she quit her free therapy
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
for those that have all ways resided within Rural areas. you have drawn us into a place. Shared the Local angst, and your personal vexations. while sharing your revelations of the gleam of attraction and intrigue you saw in an others eyes. good work Joseph i Liked it very much.