gods and monsters
and dogs in front of
graveyard gates
don't think about the future
less than dull ending
in grey empty flat
mines under the surface
of wet carpet elegy
scratch their names
in the name of Poseidon
with spikes on the rocks
lone stretches of hill road
moan in the night after
broken car windshields
and tiny red streams
the intimate stranger
left crowded dancing hall
untimely without words
jumped on the carriage
surroundings fade away
during the funeral
on sunny tuesday
but storm of post-loneliness
is slinking closer
and decades end
in a mournful ceremony
almost as sad as trees
outside the cemetery
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem