Writing and its arts,
Two congas and this dance,
My still prance,
Your jived stance,
The nectar in this waltz,
Giggly strung bass and a sax,
Amplified microphones,
Steaky drumsticks,
The soar in the wind of your pipes,
These rhythm lullabies and its ode to the quail, ink and this page.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem