New movies come out on Fridays
And I buy newspapers expectantly,
But you like they,
Have awful taste in men, in movies:
Look at all the jigsaw science I’ve
Laid around you like
An ecstatic truth, or a curse,
But how easily you move away from
The borders that seem to spill like
An overeager humming bird from my throat:
That this too is too surreal,
Esoteric and hurt:
It will not sell or dress up for Parade,
It will not be seen out strutting with the girls
In fine silk negligee, the fake sailors
On the promenade:
And they will drink root beer floats,
And the castle will rise like a tortoise in disguise,
And the sun and the sky and everything
Will last forever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem