And the beautiful espionage hidden behind
The sleeping jasmine
In the tennis courts outside of the dressing rooms
In the middle of a daydream of Florida
As the waves come
And then retreat and the tourist bodies bronze
Around the shoulders
And eyes like raccoons that never figured out
How to sleep-
And everyday through the climax of
America is filled with
Sunlight an cocaine: the angels cannot seem to
Figure out how to come down
Nor the airplanes- even though the bodies
Remain juxtaposed
Inside the windows beside the televisions-
Beating hearts positioning elbows-
And my littler sisters are in love-
And the alligators sometimes sleep uphill from
The canals never imagining that they should ever say
A thing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem