Sometimes when
I sit in front of this
Machinery
I lose my head
My sanity
My heart
To the sound
Of the clocks
The machinism
Of the silent automobiles
The sepulchral howls
Of the hounds outside
And the screeching
Of the meddlesome felines
And I blame
The stars
The moon
The windowpanes
The cicadas
The books piled
At the reticent shelves
The murmurs of
The night
And the cavils
Of the day
Safe to say
I am blaming
The world
But now I am
Losing my head
My heart
My soul
Into something
Genuine.
I think you know,
And there is no
Better feeling
Than this -
A frank
Invulnerability
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem