Financially speaking, I am naked alone in bed waiting for my tan to dry.
Unpleasant pillowcases draining my account - Help Me
Father, I need a hand with my back.
Intrinsically speaking, looked that one up, naturally, the opposite to the person I
in this moment of uncertainty and smell
which God graced that loathly odor? Someone
did Aphrodite *****. Hera, hear me, I swear to never unbutton your blouse
in summer and I will not zipper your Onzie up
in winter. Philosophically speaking, my skin will never dry
I will always need help getting unbuttoned,
zippered, spread like honey, folded, misplaced, understood, and on
to the roof of that brown pump, whose bottle will never finish.
Mentally, I feel finished in bed, not sensually.
Sexually, I feel itched, at least in the process of, a fox in the snow under branches
of a tree only twigs they keep falling and scratching;
not hurting nudging the fox to do whatever it is to help the
tan dry, or in the fox's case, its fur to stay on so he doesn’t bald
right before the winter, it needs its coat even if sometimes it is unnatural
or un-intrinsic (extrinsic).
Wrote a poem then translated it into a over 10 languages deleting the ninth word every time. Went from Indonesian to Italian to Afrikaans to Portuguese to Somali to Slovenian to Icelandic to Japanese to Latin etc. This is the original poem.
