Hobbies of bobby pins and new Christmases:
I spend all of my day off ejaculating in my yard, or doing
The laundry- these are so much the housewives chores,
But they have all gone up to their cathedrals;
They are all spent like fireworks, and I am left to
Languish here,
An airplane in the palm of my hand, my words the mute
Joy that the tadpoles experience as they metamorphosis:
As the swans enjoy their breathless highways,
As the mountains stalk the gods- I have no health insurance
Or cable television, or even a love that can understand:
I have no canal to leap across
In the paper airplane’s incredible metamorphosis.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem