Peeled into the joys of an excellent body destroyed
By rum:
I weigh as much as my muse of today or yesterday:
And while I am a bachelor,
I sit out and have lunch over the ants unapologetically:
They cannot turn their heads up to see.
Of course, the cars are entirely blue around me-
They seem to be burning sugar cane in the sky:
Yes, that is exactly what they are doing,
And the juvenile swans are abandoning our parking lots
And malls,
Before they are truly beautiful- looking away as they do,
Before we can truly figure out where they belong.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem