that everything last year
was a struggle against
choking, that something
grips us and wants us all
dead and buried six feet
below our grounds but
let me say on record,
my dear, we have sur
vived on some surrogate
fears, love, this thing,
provided us all with all
the tools, and here we
are like moon-cats
grinning in this darkness
in darkness out, grrrr
it is pretty damn cold
inside and out. Grrr.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem