Then it feels alright: the stars in their cathedral
And the night coming down through its curtains
Loving what it does,
Becoming married again across the deserts
On horseback,
Talking to itself or to the rattlesnakes:
And in all of this my natural selection- my impermanence
Cried to all of the heavens:
That this is what I do, panhandling to the midway:
This is what I do with the traffic coming home,
Sweating and bejeweled- or other words describing
It I do not know- as the light cast its orbs
Outward upon the brown skin of my muses,
Traveling home with the rattlesnakes and with
The moccasins into a world that I do not
Know,
Kissing the turtles resting their who carry their homes
With them- and kissing everyone else in the classroom,
As the light fades
And the eels and the foxes begin their dances.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem