I'm not a practicing angel,
ladies and gentlemen
Got these penny wings
out of boredom
I need to know
that black and grey place
inside an angel
where you bow your head,
when a puppet
forgets himself,
when a man learns
how small deer laugh
– that we live
singing about lettuce –
blue lettuce on Thursday…
(when they turn over a card
and hand you a rule)
'a bunny may weep
a bunny may sleep
and a big bunny
may pray
once in awhile...'
For I must spend time with them
And we will have our hours
ready
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem