The world is a forest
we cheapskate light on the forest floor
high above flies the body of the bird
of cool. We fools look up to see if she's gone
halcyon, junky of the cloudless skies
deal me more words, I want to play.
I want to prove I'm here
I want the spirits to turn me on
and live as long as the fish
who dies in the gizzard of halcyon
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem