I'll find
another word for it...
barking up the baguette...
a surfeit of salamanders
in springform cogitation....
less?
more?
how many steps is it from warblestrasse to cantilever alley,
where the bedframe groaned a rhythm that set the joists
to humming harmonics and rafterglow was a visible thing?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem