Groomed as if to be a pilot, and then lying there
Reclining as if triaged in the half light of a living room-
An astronaut who never got even higher than the arboretum
Of apple trees:
Not even quite high enough to see the goblins and the
Dragon approaching- and then to go down
From there, helped by the
Mexicans and their sad dreams and strong liquor-
Wayward like the naked changing rooms in an autumn
Falling down from the world- while everything else moving
Onwards only multiplying the complexity of the universe-
Fireworks resembling her features in the sky
The tourists frolic towards in their mobile cities,
While the insatiable mountain lion drags off the last of
The once brave men.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem