Asperger Poem by Leslie Philibert
Asperger
An island full of shapes,
patterns full of bricks and numbers
and the thin voice of a bird
lost on a strange planet; so start
again and disregard all the
faces that bend under order; just
watch your own dancing hands;
listen to your own stolen voice,
you are deep in your own sense; underground
until the world implodes;
a puzzle flying; the lines crossed;
a broken window full of stars.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 2:48:15 PM # 1.0.0.1119
When all else fails. Dash it. Good one and good luck.