Blaze the neon scream the flood-
lighting of metal and melted sand.
earworms tangled cord vibrations
Wave of endless motion.
Who takes the time to be silent?
Time whirling suds down-drain,
busy busy hurry hurry
the glowing lamps,
devices caging lightning
Hollow laughs and bronzed flesh
Who takes the time to think?
Watching darkly through a glass
only face to face-
the uncomfortable pierce of truth-
in extremity in violence
linked chained closer together than ever in antiquity
Yet
Who chooses true solitude?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem