Rain looks like whisky falling before
The sunlight,
But the day is almost over and
I’m still out of alcohol- and it hurts to
Look at my face. My teeth hurt as I think
Lupine on girls that already died in the 70s,
And girls from high school died:
They died in North Carolina, they died in
Saint Augustine- They used to play the guitar,
And I dreamed of them under the broken down
School bus and on, and on;
And, when I could, I sucker punched the
Bullies in the locker room- I didn’t try out,
I didn’t run; and in between my classes,
I smoked the sea underneath an umbrella
In the moonlight, and made love to colors there
Are no names for, following after the
Daphnes and Carolines, dying too for my
Bit of fun.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Love the whisky-coloured rain falling in sunlight - that's a great image.