Boston 12: 31pm Poem by Steven Adelman
Boston 12: 31pm
This house is a quiet house.
The owner, a Cuban, squatting
in the garage- seemingly waiting
to paint with his soaked brush
of colour.
Past noon now...
nothing to keep the time or my mind
occupied.
Lying on stained couch-
who knows whose been here before me.
Biting my nails & reading T.S. Eliot
I'm not stressed
just uneasy- but if I keep
nibbling on my fingertips
all my troubles'll go away
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 7:23:20 AM # 1.0.0.1119
