Now they are talking smoke:
And all around them the chaos rides up trees:
They seem to be getting to the coney
Pinnacle
Where they are caressing angel knees:
And down beneath them- so far from there, the ribbons
Circle saplings lost from her-
And drowning anyways- the good witchcraft of her
Haircut:
And I said I loved her weather front: and the band proceeded
The football players of false gold:
I told her all of the stories that I was ever told:
And then I burned away at the edges of a silent sea:
Rhymes that slipped away spoken of by
Mermaids who never slept let alone spoke to me:
And my world curled at the edges,
And it looked so fine- and it seemed as I for awhile that
My soul- my Alma would be mine,
But like a kidnapped child, I separated from myself:
The paint left the pony- it left the house-
And the sea engorged so far as to slip into another sea;
Drowned in the light of a luckless elephant,
It seemed as if I supposed that for a little while she would
Be returned again to me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem