And while doing my laundry
with Charles Bukowski
and he instructing me about such
stating that each lovely
woman and such are they
these there and by design
being only human
bending over to pick his up, hers
and being full
and singing out about my hunger
knowing that it would
only be after all,
whom she is but am i
and being an ignorant man
she happy that i am
when exposed to the air
her smile as my breath
caught by she
it was heard
and even by that one drop
painful, 'Temptation
and not giving in
i simply moved my legs
up and down
there more quickly.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem