Walter Ruhlmann
Untitled raving poem
grumpy old man                 tired     of being so     damned useless
     I hate your                      hound which colours make me puke
     and I hate                        watching this TV
        programme that never seems to        end. May we love or.
     May we   dream some   time this year     until the frost comes
     burning our fingers and   toes. My
        sex is so gigantic that it hurts. Lick                 it you slut. Lick
     it and have a nice supper.          Spermicide on your hands, in
     the palms of your hands. I                                            used to
     linger under palm trees
and                  banana trees
and mango trees
and coconut trees
and all the trees one can find in a tropical          place.
I hated it there yet I had the sun.  stop moaning.  Life is a bitch
     anyway.
The twins get on my nerve and                        they
     keep on flirting. Stop. Stop     until you start again. Stop until
     it bleeds. Stop until death
        comes near. Stop until I say so. Sicily comes this way...
Walter Ruhlmann was born in 1974 in France. He currently lives in Nantes where he works as an English teacher. He has been publishing mgversion2>datura (ex-Mauvaise graine) for over fifteen years. Walter is the author of several poetry chapbooks and e-books in French and English and has published poems in various printed and electronic publications world wide. He is a 2012 Pushcart Prize nominee for his translation of Martine Morillon-Carreau’s poem “Sand début ni fin, ce rêve” published in the January 2011 issue of Magnapoets.
His blog: http://lorchideenoctambule.hautetfort.com/
previous page     contents     next page
Untitled raving poem
grumpy old man                 tired     of being so     damned useless
     I hate your                      hound which colours make me puke
     and I hate                        watching this TV
        programme that never seems to        end. May we love or.
     May we   dream some   time this year     until the frost comes
     burning our fingers and   toes. My
        sex is so gigantic that it hurts. Lick                 it you slut. Lick
     it and have a nice supper.          Spermicide on your hands, in
     the palms of your hands. I                                            used to
     linger under palm trees
and                  banana trees
and mango trees
and coconut trees
and all the trees one can find in a tropical          place.
I hated it there yet I had the sun.  stop moaning.  Life is a bitch
     anyway.
The twins get on my nerve and                        they
     keep on flirting. Stop. Stop     until you start again. Stop until
     it bleeds. Stop until death
        comes near. Stop until I say so. Sicily comes this way...
Walter Ruhlmann was born in 1974 in France. He currently lives in Nantes where he works as an English teacher. He has been publishing mgversion2>datura (ex-Mauvaise graine) for over fifteen years. Walter is the author of several poetry chapbooks and e-books in French and English and has published poems in various printed and electronic publications world wide. He is a 2012 Pushcart Prize nominee for his translation of Martine Morillon-Carreau’s poem “Sand début ni fin, ce rêve” published in the January 2011 issue of Magnapoets.
His blog: http://lorchideenoctambule.hautetfort.com/
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home