All of the Mexicans looked up to the moon,
And I could not dissuade them into disbelieving in
That old sphere,
While the faeries that were still alive but
Left unburied in their old hijinks seemed to disbelieve forever, or just
Until the luminosity became too great,
And they could only life there,
Forever the lost boys into the headlamps of their
Own cars—
This was how it was seemingly forever frozen
Just for the owls and the spiders—
Or supposedly,
Until it got too far out of hand,
As their classrooms seemed to last forever,
Clapping underneath the airplanes-
Until it was over already—you see the sea had come home,
Foaming headily all over the carport and into the recesses
Without even one other thought for me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem