Last night I had a peeled-off nightmare
in which seven
lady's bicycles
were parked
in front of double bottle kitchen sink
blocking me access to washing my coffee pot
carrying browny coffee muck
from the previous jig,
and at the front door
decorated with bunch of strawberries
lies three velvet hand bags
of my wife who's gone to see her mom in mountains,
a tube of Apricot scrub
and a jar of cucumber lotion
with luminescent bubbles.
All this troubles me if the world is coming to an end.
In compensation I wish my day,
images of cat Kelly doing nineteen laps
on my pool-board without peeing once,
lions doing the lionesses fifty times
on the rocky hot beds
and a ping pong ball the size of Joey
jumping the mother's bag while she's in motion.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
u r a good narrator. Liked it