When I think of you,
I hear a marimba in my head.
I'm lost like a stray cat.
Baby, I swear I'll
hop a train and head
west, to roll away from
the memory of you.
This mad hatter moon lights
my way, and I'm done
holding on.
I'm getting a
bottle of whiskey,
and drinking
it, until you become a
blurry memory.
Then I'm jumping that train.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The great art work is done by Kieth Sloan