Passing Creedmoor
On my way out East
A flock of starlings
Dipped sharply into
The traffic flowing
Towards the Northern State
When the meanings all converged
And suddenly the car
Was a dynamo
A stick of dynamite
In my hands whose fuse
Was lit as I raced ahead
This poem was written in reply to DuFu's Song of a Madman, which I recently translated. You can read my translation of DuFu's great poem by clicking here.
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