Rubber trees are shivering like stretchy men
Undecided as to where they will be going, waiting for
The extinct show girls to blow in:
Girls on dynamite motor bikes their turn of the century
Engines caracoling, giving off into the atmosphere
The unreal power of mythical birds,
Each engine block a phoenix caught and held and
Perpetually resurrected under her sweet as$.
It’s just that I have nowhere else to go,
And thievery is so much more beautiful near the seashore,
Now why are you coming in swimmingly or up in the air-
Why don’t you love me, if only because I am not
Of the flock of other men in your immediate vicinity,
Or it is because you are not real.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem