lou tullio is a small, translucent ghost
floating over gravel by train-tracks.
he looks like fdr in a wheelchair
boxed in a misty-like hologram,
& he's smiling, talkative, somehow
picking up litter. i ask him how is it
trains run thru the city,
how are red-lights in sync
so no cars or people are crushed?
he doesn't know. he's the size
of a pillow-case, & a
ghost wavering over gravel,
good ol' lou tullio,
former mayor of eerie.
i look down at him &
he grins.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Loving your poems! Wishing Gary could read them!