I
She was a phoney, that was for sure
She lived in a bedsit down some backstreet
Near the RDS in Dublin
Collegiate-
Student council provocative
Who modelled in a catalogue
Anti consumerism yet a comsumer none the less
II
She talked of nudity
Sleeping nude or listening to music nude
Naked imagery of her
With her pictures of Síle ní Gigs
Fat tighed drawings
Mothers of pagan godesses
III
We sat and in the pong of herbal
Mind clouded stupidity-
With a lighter she burnt away more
Than she inhaled
She lit a fire in my heart that was
Expunged and excommunicated
IV
Lying on her bed smiling secretly
While I wished to kiss her
But bottled it
I wanted to
I said it in my head
And gave way to delicious fantasies
Lips beget lips
And arms beget bodies
But the delerious cloud of those dreams
Were dispelled by the wind of her indiference
V
And the regret of regrets passed into
My own private legend....
And my greatest muse was lost to me
In the weird moment
When awkwardly she closed the door
Saying goodbye
And that she would call me
VI
She never called me.
How I hate her for that
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem