Mermaid Fascination
Put a seashell to your ear and hear
the storm that blew and the call from
the mermaid you met when wading
along the shores of Peru.
The tail thing is a myth because I met
her late in the evening in a pink room
perfumed to cover for the odour of
beery men, who live in dread of dentists.
She was glad to see me and I seeing
her, although not at this place, yet she
took an hour off her busy schedule and
we made love without haste.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem