I've got a feeling my mechanic is ripping me off
He grimaces, rubs calloused hands together then tugs on his yellowing mustache
Strained laughter through a smoker's cough
Her voice is deep and breathless and filled with abbreviated mortality and a life spent sacrificing health for pleasure
Leave me alone with sex for nothing
Other less likely occurrences, I'll have just one positive thought
Gets caught up in the heaviness in his chest
Takes 10 breaks a day to stand outside and fill himself with zesty self-immolation contrast
To a different climber, professional league, say goodbye to these stories of stone
Micro-gesturing, taps tobacco against the table
Something to do on a long car trip to avoid falling asleep while driving
Becomes a surrogate fidget, voodoo doll that spits up detritus
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem