Let us attend to
The hyperactive lullabying bowers
The neon forests the
Working girls strut like
Lost granddaughters
Freckled with naked
Picnic baskets
Blueprinted by Telsa
Backed and put on-line by
Baron Steam Engine;
As if moving away,
You are looking at me
As if you do not care,
As if you do not know
Nor ever thought of
Where there is a certain lake
Whose skin stretches restively like
A sheet;
There is a place through the
Bustling dime store leaves
Where we might disembark
With a slender kiss,
Shrouded by sky,
The topaz coin
Flattened on the divine
Railroad trestle
There is another
Peter Pan
Who is I
In a single moment
Of a single day
On the chosen thread
In a locked room
Woven to feeling in
Your throat;
If you touched me
We could fly
Featherlessly winged without
A purpose to migrate and
Forage
Pumping alive above the
Honking jungle where these
Go to die
The brightest light,
The big goodbye.
There is another
Peter Pan
Who is I
If you touched me
We could fly.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem