And there I was
crossing the car park,
near the Breakers,
where people in sucked
up hatchbacks,
come to do it at night...
and a Black car in
the distance, snaked,
quite fast out -
near 'Torry
Battery',
getting much faster
all the time,
till it was where I stood,
poking my camera
outwards to sea,
a man and woman
got out quickly,
with no time to waste,
it appeared,
'how about over here? '
yeah - why not!
and produced a large
urn,
to empty it out
into the sky,
as if the contents
were still alive,
a yellowish white
dust cloud,
and whatever it is,
they are very very anxious
to be done with it,
whether a request or not? ,
and I think about a photo
but wont,
they stand for a whole
five or ten seconds,
then jump back into their Mercedes,
and drive away in a similar
dust cloud....
I hope they make it to where
they are going...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem