Not everyone says how they feel
That is a challenge
A reliance on the audience as well as those who 
Steward the language
Up to the breadth of your lips 
That might the truth of the heart meet ears
A broad leap of faith 
Not only to say it
But to really let oneself hear
Hear not knowing how you can understand, but you are
Someone cries out in unmedicated surgery
Another burns at the stake 
Listen
You're all just there to watch it happen
Or to make it happen 
Or to undo it
If it can never be undone 
Let the soldier find his way home
And the witch glance far from hers
There are women who feel uneasy to just stand in the street
And look about
Even her favorite street
She might never know the sight of 
Without walking's obscuring bob in between her perfect 
Stillness
And the clamoring world of foes
Then there is another kind
Some wretched kind 
Who loves the gutter
It is bleeding the streets into the underworld 
It is taking news of our sins to mama OCEANIA
And she will not see justice sleep for those who awaken their Love for her
She herself pauses 
Lets time mingle only without
To look around
All around
All throughout
All within the brimming pot of festering iniquity and jolliness
And it always
Always 
Always feels like home
The fighting with police
The heartbreak of being someone people open up to
They speak so their words are 
Not something intended to avoid a stir
Nor intended to make one
These TYPE of WORDS are so precious
The words of those who forget themselves
Forget to be apart
And to seem a way
The whole scoured shambles is a way
And the shanty queen is shining bright like a tin foil cap in a Summer parade 
Such a little hot head
Such a hot little head
Such hot head, little
Death                
 
                    This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    