He Met: A Swedish Translation Poem

Eight telephones tall, I ran out Knotted oaks painted the lands with glitter I forced her nigh in the jagged oral light, while Rats solve the hotel's mysteries after dark. Low, run-down bars pair the Orient's rings Encompassing names with jeans and Harley-Davidson leather jackets, switch blades and cheap whiskey. Scaring children to sleep.   … Continue reading He Met: A Swedish Translation Poem