A friend asked if I ever write poems
about leafblowers and their users.
Anyone whose neighbours have been reduced
by their behaviour
and who writes a poem
naming his neighbours
after their instruments of offence,
Gas Tankers, for example,
and after the expression of their instruments,
for example, The Thumpers,
and can only escape
to a place
where there's probably some other abuser,
is writing a poem about a leafblower,
and reducing to Blower its user.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I relate to this look at neighbours who are inconsiderate. All too familiar. I thought, by the title, that it would be about JFK's speech in Berlin in 1963. No matter.