Days go by
mouths torn open
wide
insensate the swallowed-up
de-compose.
The story
is our story:
With limited capacity for independent movement
drifting
As if hoarded
in the pelican's
throat pouch.
The tongue is a good
policeman.
Can be had
at any price.
Translated by Donna Stonecipher
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem