I would come up to
Tallahassee,
to be with only you.
But they the staff
could not but try to
teach me how to write.
And I would then
forget
every thing
I had to say, to you.
I like verbs
and metaphors
while others say they
like those adjectives.
Your name is a mixture of both to me
Can you still help me in and out
through the papers
back doors
and you know they know I know
or is it to me just your other job?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem