To Feed Make Dos Poem by Robert Rorabeck
To Feed Make Dos
Into the heroisms of
Bright tenements
I find myself dying,
Scarred and
Effaced again,
While I see you in
The effigy of his
Mexican relationship
Who from your
Tawny kiln
Has produced both of
Your children,
Who come out to suckle off your
Muddy banks,
The way fireworks gurgle
In brown sin
And chocolate milk;
Until like mud pies left on the sill
To feed make dos
You leave his continent.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/19/2024 7:48:56 AM # 1.0.0.1119
