renting...for a day or two....the entire Biltmore Estate....
padding, staunch and erect... through the halls....
a stopping at each
of the sixty five fireplaces...
after all, the burning of these love letters
should be done in a dignified and circumspect manner...thoroughly...specifically....
the screams and wails and moans shall come later...conclude with..
.oh,
who knows, now......
.there's a job to be done......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem