a bobble head that sits on your dash
and smiles at you in traffic
a charm on a chain that is more heavy
then the metal its made of
it is inexorably mundane
an item lost in the cracks of minutia
the clutter of oblivion
it is the useless totem that you lose and forget
and when it finds you
you can remember who gave it to you
or what it ever did for you in the first place
and so you surrender it to the grasp of the abyss
and affection turns to apathy
and the bobble head and the charm
are left to bear it all
and conjecture there own existence
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem