Now we sang of the infinite yards: and now this:
And now this:
The way I sometimes still see my own mother inside the blue carport
Getting undressed and electrocuted:
They way sometimes too I wished that I knew my own
Words:
Like a self aware mocking bird, and the songs that I give again
To you- to you, like a sophisticated if inebriated fantasies
Up the three stories of the galleries of my fantasies
That I walked with you today:
Alma, on our Tuesday of today: while last time we held tennis and
Then I carried you into a sea where you couldn’t even swim,
And I kissed you, and held you underneath the teepees of the
Sun,
And all of her vanishing elements: while today we took my own
Car up and down Military Trail, and you told me that your man
Wasn’t unkind to you,
But then I remember how he left you and Michael and went to
Mexico:
But he came back again; and again he is here:
But today he was in Orlando with Mickey Mouse, finishing his
Pools for over eager housewives,
And that was why you were right here; and you are either a good
Woman climbing my proverbial beanstalk or I am blind;
And even if I am blind, I still have so many harmless stories
In their homeless gardens left to sing for you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem