Another put down séance to hide my face into:
So you won’t find it where I’ve crept so far away from
Your town:
You will be going out tonight, your face so pale and
Youthful under the banking clouds;
And your eyes will soar upwards, delighted and without
Fear;
And your man will turn you around like a wind chime
Of a weather vane;
And the crocodiles will watch you with eyes just like
Your birthstones,
Watching you peel out gleefully underneath where little
Boys too fly,
Where I am so far away,
Where I am sleeping underneath a bus and hiding
My face in a selfish mirror of the very earth that you
Dance atop of, so garish and nude in your many miles
Of display;
It seems as if you’d be smothering me, if you weren’t
Too lighthearted for anything I’ve been heard to say.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem