I stole things from kindergarten to fill my
Pockets with:
I stole things from pretty girls at nap time, and pulled
Up wishes from the sherbet rug:
I brought flowers for Danielle in second grade:
I masturbated on the green carpet too for which my
Father paid:
And the land burned with sugar cane, and the girls I took
For muses touched their imperfect flesh in the paper
Snow,
And we grew taller and tipped over the glass,
And looked down the mewing jaws of the lion too insouciant
To jump through the hoops of flame:
The pretty damsels tasseled there just as tired and nodding
Off,
Thinking only of how the mowed grass would feel on their
Bare feet,
Or on the forts looking down to the love making sea:
The way the Mexican tourists remember the Alamo:
Like in the water parks of my love
Taking her stuff off before she has to go home pregnant and
Embarrassed to be harassed by the hard noises of
Trailer parks:
So fond- so fondly.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem