noxious buffoonery
and crimson dandelions....
why
couldn't I just say 'red'.......red...red....red....
it's a fine color....for a fox or a crane's bill....
a trampoline...a cumberbund.... a penny whistle......an excuse....
trotted out like some swabbed decade..or an incensed floor-buffer....
circular and adamant.............
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem