Cars in the jungle of naked women,
One breasted and highly heroic, their kings made
Up of jaunting men in fine suits,
I sleep in their driveways and gentle abutments:
I steal their pies, and kissed them once or twice.
I went to school with them in an upper middle-class
Fairy-tale,
But I still want to see them again, and tongue them with
Romance if I can-
First by their pools, for they all have at least one
(as as rule)
They are all like little toy Indians in high class wigwams,
Each of a sorority corded of by
Their religions: sweet, sweet bitter sweet memories
How my words fail them,
Merry-go-rounds in the rain with my little sister
In the concluding portions of a misunderstood novel;
She gives me free beer, and I go piss on the grounds of
The best university in Florida;
She still lives there, but she hasn’t yet joined them:
She hasn’t yet decided upon them man which will fulfill her
Destiny,
Though she has already fulfilled mine:
The eyes of my earth,
The lips of my earth,
The breasts and legs and all the senses of my earth;
The greater mythology of my lonely sea, I should say her name,
But I have already failed her, homeless and barefoot,
I travel by the perfumes of her divine providence;
I should say her name,
But she already knows what grand amusement she is to me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem