Standing in the scalding shower
How I soak oblivious to skin
Flaking off me washing down the gurgling drain
And bones melting inside my heated body
The Plumber turned the tap as far as power
Would let the flowing water gushing in
Wash the compressed thoughts out of my tumbling brain
Like sandstone down a wild winter wadi
And like those rivers causing banks to flower
My heart blood rushes, letting dormant longing in
Translated into thirsty verses writ by rain
Dripping from each orifice ripe to disembody.
Linda Hepner
12.26.05
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A wonderful rite, the daily shower. Your language is flowing powerfully here. I have a version, too, 'cold fall morning', if you'd like to pull the curtain and compare (oh, sorry, that sounded rather dirty) . -chuck