This daydream they give to Sabbath and other schedules
And for awhile it feels alright to believe
Looking up into the delusions of airplanes—
To be here in the graveyard of the pets won at the midway of
The festival that has moved away:
And remembering everything, with her hands of amber
Interlocked underneath the cathedrals of the
Museum:
Now I am married, waiting for my wife to arrive—
I am struggling towards her,
A jelly-fish lost in a vast sea of vanishing electricity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Fantastically penned.nice one man