There was the Alamo somewhere underneath
The sun
And forgotten boys underneath the sun
And horses they would ride
And rivers and flowers beside the river:
Or just the daylight from long ago, while I was
Trying to breathe somehow outside of
The shopping malls
Where I collected these things, or stole them
From the busied, harrowed shelves,
While all of the daylight was a go:
And the houses that we all live in burned down
In their rows; but after midnight,
After the catastrophes had all come to an end,
The wild jasmine grew
And perfumed her nocturnal dresses that diademed
Her hidden show: for years she was my secret
Muse- even she didn’t know- but she remains
My muse and my lover,
And I long for the sudden nights where our bodies
Caress like melting snow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem