I want to brag my Sun
outpouring from my eye
could bring a stubborn bud to blossom.
It cannot, of course,
but I am charmed
by such imagination.
And every mousing or swaggering soul,
could one be squeezed
or coaxed to such emission,
pleases me no less for being attitude ~
I smile at these insulting and graffitied walls
that try to come between
the way myopic eyes interrogate
one another's timid
I throw sidewalks whole aside
in anticipation of our morning
There is more to our discrete hellos
shoving other away and over edge
than eyes scream out such
quiet, errant questing. My Troubadours,
We are more beautifully alive
than ALL suppose.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem