here I am
in the ground
my mouth
open
and
I can't even say
mama,
and
the dogs run by and stop and piss
on my stone; I get it all
except the sun
and my suit is looking
bad
and yesterday
the last of my left
arm gone
very little left, all harp-like
without music.
at least a drunk
in bed with a cigarette
might cause 5 fire
engines and
33 men.
I can't
do
any
thing.
but p.s. - Hector Richmond in the next
tomb thinks only of Mozart and candy
caterpillars.
he is
very bad
company.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hector Richmond in the next tomb thinks only of Mozart and candy caterpillars. he is very bad company.. a good poem. tony