God save me from salesmen
and preachers in denim.
From long conversations
with etherized patients.
From boredom in the afternoon
And the smell of cheap perfume.
Shield me from the words
and consequences I deserve.
Maintain a sense of possibility
Put turbined slippers on my feet.
So at a moment's notice I can flee
From lolling tongues to thee.
(2006)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem