If I went down to Mexico, it was to drink
Salt:
And standing up that way from the impossible
Watering hole where the purple
Wilderness was rising up
And making a canopy of her gazes:
I froze for a moment,
Trying to remember the high schools of America
I once believed in,
And the stupendous tortoises who foraged there
Off oil black orchids underneath the broken
Down school buses
In the middle of the incredible rainstorms-
Where they laid out baseball and alligators;
But there was only her lavender wilderness,
A soul of effluvious wings,
Poisonous and immortal: she sang to me through
Her body’s forest,
And I came to her. Leaving myself never to sell
Fireworks in the sunshine again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem