Saboteurs are right beside where I left
Them,
And all that is Christmas: Alma is taking the day
Off tomorrow,
And I wonder what she will do:
Looking in the windows of baseball diamonds,
I remember girls who are not altogether
Real,
Who are like you, Alma, but from different states
Of the world;
It has been for them that I’ve been kissing the
Empty promises of serpents
And poisoning myself in the worthless majesty
Of fool’s gold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem