He has a muscular torso
With a thousand erections
Lighting up the night sky
But none sticks up more
Than the twin cocks.
(And yet)
Who would think of going all the way
Downtown to castrate
With two knives ablaze?
A muscular story ends.
He now speaks differently
And cannot look into the void
Without flailing.
Now this, for me, is greatness in poetry. The modern is usually seen as cold and calculated. In this we have a poem that is tightly packed and yet is overflowing in its emotional feeling. Some would (and have) taken the 9/11 travesty and wrote reams and reams of stanzas. You take three and say so much within that. The use of the virile male is incredible, the manner in which potency can be reduced to such a level. I could rave about this for ever, not only is it one of your best it is one of the most powerful poems I have read ever.
Somehow, this seems like it is a dream that you've written about. Certain things in it point to it being a constellation. An imagination of epic proportions! xxElysabeth
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I'm not sure about the title. I bet I could have come up with a better one. But the contents of this piece are brilliant. Nothing need be said here. GW62