LOST IN
these your senses
as i have said already
were asleep either
playing hide the Saloma or
lusting clueless in Seattle to Courtney's doves of love
i cannot make you lift your leg
to expel the accumulation of toxic Glass
jaded that hangs
ragged from your bleeding edges maimed.
You let me take away certain inalienable rights
that if seen again
will only be when aliens do come
and give lunitics more trees to print money with.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem