Gilded into the cauldrons of
A ferris wheel,
And starting out while the fire hydrants
Sing that another day has gone
Up in
A place- as the specks of nothing turn out
Really Beautiful,
As the housewives fold into themselves,
Making love with their fingers
And to the harmonies
Of their televisions
Within a hotel:
It all seems for awhile as if
To be in a pantheon of
Zeotropes;
While she remains in the over hang,
Like light in a bowl,
Like a goldfish wise enough not to
Escape,
While I am singing, while
I am counting down,
As the light falls across my faces
And the disney world,
And then mexico-
And then this;
And this.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem