Ferris Wheels strewn across a carpet
In a house as close to
The sea so as to be molested by it—
Where dolls lie cluttered amidst the palm fronds
And green snakes hang from
The crooks of citrus trees—
Where the grass is cut every day
And the waves come up to doorsteps just
As close as mailmen—
And the children you are about to have already
Live inside the house,
And in there, with the blinds open,
The daylight falls so brilliantly that you cannot
Even read,
But must close your eyes and fall into bed—
And there find your wife or your husband—
And make love while sweating a fire—
But in the night, buy her roses
And take her barefoot outdoors to enjoy
The ever rolling caesuras of the
Carnival of the sea.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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