Little known carborundum kid
scrapes his living in corrugated rust hut on highway 17
puncturer of dreams, mender of hearts
conjurer of life, straightener of dents, twister of ways.
Prestidigitation his game.
prophylactic options sidle forth
apples and snakes, snakes and ladders.
would you Adam and Eve it
pumping gas is his occupation, confidant his trade
flawless bones so white scattered prophecy
they come seekers for enlightenment.
on too hot dusty days
silver dollars just roll in but he got no use for money
except to pay the ferryman
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem