I'd walk slow on the warm days
looking for some open shade
i can't exploit my thoughts
and keep to myself
'why did i get up this morning? '
i'll ask
'i had to pee' i'd say
a beautiful woman walked beside me
with a green hat
i wanted to match eyes
but hers were fixed on avoiding the gum,
avoiding me
we walked to the library
and i'm always afraid an automatic door won't let me in
so she entered first
'do you mind if i sit here? ' i asked
'..no..' she said, not looking up from her book
with a bookjacket covering the title
i watched her hands, seeming so soft
running fingers through her hair
each minute i hated her more
another woman
they gossip
loudmouths in a library with screeching laughs
i left as fast as i could
Nietzsche:
'In the end one loves one's desire and not what is desired'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
for some reason, you remind me of bukowski. it seems this comes to easy to you without trying. i also love how you quote nietzsche. good, good poem