Falling from Ganymede you are forever
Laughing,
You are passing the bus and you are not my friend—
Shadow on the wall,
Friend to a tear—
And I am looking up, suddenly awakened
Beneath the Christmas tree—
Are you still with him,
I wonder in monuments,
As the daylight sheds its own curses,
The molting of rattlesnakes and watermoccassins:
My father in law cooks dinner and
Speaks in mandarin:
My wife from Shanghai holds the baby,
And I am not thinking of
Anyone—
I am not thinking of you—
I lost my job as a public school teacher—
Tomorrow I will sell rip off Mikey Mouse watches
At the flea market,
But it will be raining: I will not sell a thing.
I will have to move back to China—
My wife will get a job; it will be as if I am on the
Other side of the moon:
I will never have to think of the things I did with you
Again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem