Out on the diving board above shimmering stars,
stars burning on brandy and excelsior.
I watch the shoppers skate the icy slopes of meaningless
slippery and melting down into their tracks.
the clergy just left on the A train
and carolers have turned into junkies.
Why must we be plugged into a network
our minds sucked dry like batteries to our devices
what ever happened to fire?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem