Some women I know,
they entwined, knotted themselves,
powered up for sure.
It took ten minutes
for them to do their fancy
dance for us, trilling
lalalalala
in God's own heavenly tongue.
They unwound the code
that unlocks the dead,
gave breath to the sodden clouds
and opened the gates
of the heart felt front.
They roared their release. Fat rain
landed all around.
As for me, I ducked
under the oaken gallows
to wait out the scorn.
November 3,2013 11: 02 AM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem