there is a bone in
your throat
and water cannot
remove it
there is a nail in
your foot
a pebble in your mouth
or a
blue bird in your
hand
there is worm in your
hearth
a log in your eyes
a clot in your blood
a stone in your
gall bladder
there is a wrench in your
arm
an axe to grind in your
teeth
there are birds in your hair
flowers in your
ear
there is a smell in your
armpit
tears of joy on your
breasts
there is a moon in your iris
there is sun in your tongue
fat in your belly
a furry cat on your feet
butterflies in your abdomen
nerves in your fingers
nuts in your head
hammers inside your ear
a book beside your bladder
there are so many things in you
so many things in us
how can we not write?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem