They keep the rates of the sun.
Even though they’ve been lamenting, casting dimes
To the bums:
Bums like terrapin beside the concrete rivers,
As the horseshoes
Get lucky underneath the breakfast of
An over easy heavens-
And then I saw you like a fox underneath a mobile
Of your brown skin,
Even though the never game a d$mn-
As the hurricanes echoed like airplanes
Avoiding all of the ballrooms of their high school proms,
As I wrote more and more letters
Misconceived towards you, as the waves licked forever
The ingenious and misconceived skeletons
Of my love,
As you played baseball in a field that never existed-
And all of existence became contorted,
But existed beneath the wheat of the heavens,
Giving all of us a little more time
To make love for real-
As the busses courted the terrapin in the cul-de-sacs of
Housewives,
As the fireworks we spent, jubilantly, tried to feel up
All of the undiminished heavens.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem