Now, going to school you will be saved
By kissing tadpoles in the second
Of their metamorphosis-
You will make them princesses from a long ways off,
Or what else, I don’t care:
But it all pretends to be beautiful, while
America is broken:
And the angels of gaudy filigree pirouette like
Cantankerous instruments over our bunk beds:
And they seem as if they’ve been making love-
Or they are just holding over for the saviors of the
Fire trucks,
While all of the catastrophes sing out loud
And I crowd your mouth with my tongue
Like a crowd on a Ferris Wheel.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem