From a seashore wedding
all that's left at ebb's tide are
discarded hot air balloons.
Once inflated egos
now in flaccid condoms
are the only ephemeral remnants
of flushed adulation
feeding foreign shores.
Lovers gone,
paramours in search of passion,
only barren lovers' wishes
fill imaginary baby carriages.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem