Your body pearls its flea market hearts as for
The decorations of
The cheap thrills filigreeing our favorite carnivals;
And this is real again tonight:
That you took me in your car at lunch and we kissed,
Alma- Later on I danced for you in the rain,
Because you always keep yourself so clean and
Beautiful,
A little musical girl without any song and a nice
Ass that is only for show;
But I have been to your petting zoo,
And I listened to you reading Borges in English to me
In your car sitting like a panther in the rain;
And then I read him too, and we switched languages
And sounded so nice,
And I kissed your brown skin, and thought I would
Die again as you drove away and left me,
And made all the silversmith airplanes look and sound
Like buzzards;
But I have given all of my bastard’s art over to you,
And I plan to see you first thing tomorrow and press you
Against my wall like a very brown wildflower,
Like a mirage picked from the desert, and make love to
You, and continue inspiring all of my hopeless
Art into you,
With my quiet lips all over your body- and then all of the sky
Pretending to make us believe in anything we want.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem