Are far out weighed by social strife,
Cablemen at my front door
Immigrants from distant shores,
Dare to stand in open wonder
Makes me quake with distant thunder;
Verizon trucks parked in my driveway.
Repairmen edging up, and sideways,
I tell them I don’t subscribe their service,
Their hungry looks make me nervous;
And it’s just the same when we go out,
Strangers follow us about
Who eye her body with open joy,
Would I were gay and she a boy;
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem