'All in a row they hurried, scurried
scaring feather out of snow'
LopLop sits upon her thrall
anointed queen of Goth and Gaul:
hailing the winds,
eating snow, rock, and sand
eating salt
She eats Salt!
it is said in fact
she tastes until she
cuckoos like
a raven - a sound
forcing even slugs
to flee as quickly
as they may
Loplop wavers:
to strike slimes beneath
the shale or the shell?
and to choose
the worst of all
- she struck at salt!
All the pheasants echo
madly at this game:
'They eat Salt!
They eat Salt!
They eat Salt! '
But to this day
she dreams to
eat, in full flavor,
of all the mollusk;
And all, including snail,
fear of dissolving
in her mouth.
April - May 2010
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem