To greet a showgirl with nonsalivating anonymity
Let us work out what to do in the sticky darkness
This wasn't cordial, this wasn't what bloodshot eyes expected
To seek an alternative liason with a cardinal abstraction
One you wouldn't confuse with naked flesh on display
In my dreams
I persecuted you with vertebrate impartiality
Forced you into a badminton match with deadly obstacles
Sought payment for being called a "horn dog"
Pro-cool blood, self-control, anti-hands free, harassment persona
I tiptoe around their summit, nightly nude summit
To acknowledge another who has become a focus
A want in the eyes of the commodity based culture
She-totems beating down honesty and honesty not putting up much of a struggle
It's not the flattery that does them in, it's the dispassionate liar
With motives not just unclear but carefully disguised
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem