Leisurely writing, listening to music here at a Fry's
Food Store in Mesa, Arizona, secluding self within,
unfolding in pages of poetry.
Lines appearing quickly one after another, like ants
swarming around a piece of candy, this brain open to
anything.
Thoughts rushing out in streams like a flash flood,
falling downward into an interior waterfall, flowing
into a beautiful bluened pool of thoughts awaiting
expression.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem