The phantasms
of my filthy fancies
breed
an exquisite boredom; and
this monotony
when tuning,
swabs all the vivacities,
and
screws up my Art.
are you flirting furtively with filthy fantasies? may i look? tunes? tuned? perhaps this one is a little over my head, or should i call it avant-garde? thanks for sharing. bri :)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
which Art are we speaking of? i knew an Art Kan once. No, my mistake; his name was Art Carney. see my previous comment from last year. the title brought me back from my monotonous evening here is darkened California. care to share this or other poems this month in the December showcase? ? i don't seem to have even one from you yet this month. bri :)