Yes, not correct, feeling
wart from moons half closed eye.
November first.
An english thirst.
Body of woman, men, a thousand
& more stuck on the web.
Zealots ambitiously seek the
external nervous system.
Listen in, or just eavesdrop.
The voices are far, riding air movements
like arrows on isobars.
A single reply of never.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
....a very interesting piece. Thanks for sharing.