slippery tongues and
scissored speech patch the
way to the sweet din of
quiet. licensed liars
crack their way confusing
while sighing wheezings
long at breaking, bubbling
hopes.
tripling faces and
moneyed hands blur
the smiles bought by
loved deceit. searching
silence impatiently screams
at self-satisfied hate
until she sees peace
sleeping in a corner.
(January 29,1965)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem