Floodraisers Poem by William Greco
Floodraisers
dragged from grey waters
dragged from war's hungry mouth
there's a door on top of a birch tree
point me to the checquered carpets
on the roof of albino hearse
point me to the playhouse building
where we can watch
noir movies on a saxophone
point me to the fireworks in the mist
and bury me up in the cellar
under the highway or ocean floor
where fly riders turn
into floodraisers
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/28/2024 11:03:10 AM # 1.0.0.1119
