You would be
a sensation in Cuba
my demure little geisha
among those old tarts
with American hearts-
glad I haven't a clue
as to where you've been
but, as I step out of
the grey, organ-failure Toyota
and into this one that is
nice, new, and pea-green
that I would have loved
age seventeen
but now, all I see as I
make the engine purr
is the assembly team crew;
their jokes in the restroom,
their loves and quarrels,
dogs, children
and pilot fish dreams
the unerring dart
in double top
and the whipround
for The Kids'
carp rod and reel
the new car is made up of
ideas, floaty as dust
a kaleidoscope mix
and the possibilities
that multiply and lurk
between finger
and opposing thumb
the cleverness of not
throwing out oddities
you can see, they've been
putting madness to work
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem