Street lamps wink out,
dark turns to dawn's gloom-
a bearded vagrant awakens
from dreams of doom.
He rises to wander from the dump
to bum a fiver off a guy at the pump
at Mike's gas station as he
heads out to quench his thirst.
He has declined from the man he was;
ambition and desire no longer gnaw.
In bars on Milwaukee he's renowned
as a poet whose lines astound
and delight clientele from the hood.
They applaud the guy who would
prefer another drink to praise!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your title hooked me in. The poem certainly didn't disappoint. A keenly observed piece about one who finds comfort in forgetting. Sad. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥