Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Foreign words in an English poem? Impossible!


Little Crocked and Goners

Pouca coração, palm frond pootie-pie,
Petite déesse, pass the ouzo on the left hand side.
Wenig schatzkasten, we are squeezed from the same tube,
Poca ragazza, can we be caulked on the same tile, please?

Pouca excitador, rolling yourself in cinnamon hearts,
Petite prière, in the midnight hour I can feel your power.
Wenig bär tit, don’t be afraid that I love you,
Poca ballerina, because nothing last for long.

Pouca bacalhau, you candy pantied come-get-me-not
Petite baladeur, you’re on a Mexican bathroom wall.
Wenig strudelgesicht, I should have known you’d never miss me,
Poca mangiatore della spada, since I never went away.

Pouca saco botões, you human helium gong show,
Petite poulin du coq, hang up on me one more time,
Wenig schuhorn, once is never enough.
Poca cuore rasoio, you can keep your ‘call you later’s!

Pouca shelfedorra, whistling jazz ballet Jezebel,
Petite smurfette, I never liked the Harlem Globetrotters theme.
Wenig trampenslüt, if I had a snickers for every dude you’ve rimmed
Poca urizesouta, I’d be your mom.

1 comment:

car said...

We are losing our language and culture little by little each day.

So what kind of haiku can you make from the filthy hippie queer fest that took place last week?