I will worship the days of permanence
percent uncertain
reliable as the silkscreen of an armless angel,
the blue crumbs envelope
division foil to watch it break.
The sky is a loop, but the brothels are full.
billy gong gull coughs a pinless doll
barbed with organic poses,
neutronic and native,
I speak like a television
and I like boys with perfect dicion
but love all girls with perfect vision.
I put my brain to lips that scan fuzzy basics
behind heads my eyes are pinned
to erections that the basal in me
cannot and does not see.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem