My last stand will be in New York City.
I want to go to New York City,
sat on a park bench where Leonard Cohen sat with Joplin,
whispering stories of things to come.
I wonder what he did to remember her inher death?
My soul has become so dirty,
I feel I would fall into the old city,
become like her.
Full of secrets and hidden desires.
The woman are colder,
warmer if they decide to allow you in to see.
Their permanent scars and tarnish view on love,
leave me wishingto know all their mysteries and feel their hunger.
They dress in darkness,
I like my woman to wear black.
It make me aroused.
I want to roam the streets,
be with the people at the lowest point in life.
I want to listen to their stories,
I don't pity,
I will tellthem my stories.
I would sit in dark bars,
listen to the night people,
perhaps dance in the twisted dance of passion and lust..
I will sit on a bench,
my words would become complete.
I would flow with the city,
I would become the voice of insanity,
perhaps sanity?
I will find my place,
I will go to New York soon,
to find mypeace of mind.
Coyote
17 April 1994
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem