Turn and it’s gone
Opportunity on a catapult
Faith on a dirty weekend
Turn, and it’s the same old same
Levels of rebellion
Tripping over patriotic shoah
Lovers spanking out bliss
Static from the culture towel
Shouldering a blow up cross
With its own dancing double helix DNA
A tweeter call to arms, turning viral
For that missing fragment of soul
Then turn, something over done
On that further shore
Is more familiar than
High maintenance self
With a look in its eye
From Adam to Hamlet
I don’t remember but
The impulse echoes regardless
That’s blinking
The last unthinking act
Of the dangling drone
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem