Transelating "The Waste Land"
Click on a stanza 
to view its full transelation chain
Rose Booker
Not me without fa, mummified fear clots of Terra
Lack sliding needs, b-b-b break -
Need ain't as slow - Jet Ly
Gently swept round caps limes, eddying mars
Eat closing he from outing lick often
-minate the East
E-genderates de weight out down
When lead weaned affections poems - Puritan hack
Shutting hail without aim - retinas of ears
itchy amplifier of an era straying
Eaves up ahead
De mons are in de mind
Leave Breathlessly
Ows are the knee curve
Tainous terrain exhaust
Transvestite walking - Shakespeare
Caught trees elated with surprise
Dave Chappelle in the grip, pines softly
into UPN buying CSW, sleep without
the writers, learned, democratic strict,
win some in the lost fire
Umpteen signs make clothing, hire
Amy dying, her hope brought ships broached on land
With a lighted face Eat -- his hand
lace dow sha ni
Tumultuous lops ale
Shades ink with blood, en
pire x with lies
ack cum pressured,
Earn education
in sleeves dame framing he
lies, stical my eat Kyria
Frothy rights beams of young known visser
fly withering
moss, Bastille
Much shavings tempt the soft bone
reading
dust them together
Tick hires snot, he bares off
Yews of light
Nice - here obstruction stopping
Snake laking Mate, he
Strikes lines of souls shoes gram cracker
POP!
The new bag
nylon beast flips monkeys
wasting ships on moon banks
represent bark ro tureperada fall
part candescently
so gorge calls opposite diamonds for stands
Head opens - shouting
Slobber quietly a sad melody, lock
Lie creaking cuts my heat
Hoe - great cliche
course to me and end soft toe
East is rest
Real rapping paper
buried flesh like 2Pac under fallen avenues
Gag high schoolers, flashing pimp chains, with smut, leaving babies
To carve out lies, cross stone
Snake sigh, tailing military arms,
branded children
In maize, shaking leaving hollow
noise of bird songs
Warning the Earth of discriminating fathers
Rats up the air as they speak
Love crosses no boundaries
Directs no traffic
On Earth
Call
Say "we need no more colonies"
Snake ear rats.
They're a kind of tearing off of, neither first nor last,
limbs, with wax and dried linen, mesmerizing harmful nematodes
Shelling chestnuts, they're laughing in lilacs
Simply playing the notes - high and low
Over knitted crops we (they and I) went gliding.
(Between the fangs, I giggle at pain)
Savoring nuggets of brown roasted gold, smashing diets of fat
Erecting oil-filled monarchs among unfed masses waiting cake:
Give me your stall bread, cast unto me your moldy crusts,
Chewing and gulping down undeserved meals, blackened grease.
Wrapped, foil shrouded in steam for
The potatoes are leaving their tubers and pushing up lilies -
Mash it put, Princess Margarette, form cakes with
Fasting gobs of hollow lunch boxes
Don't relate unless you extend your neck
With that sullen smile creeping among rocks of skin
Like you can't feel - sour thing laughing
Whose offering is this - of all a places to hide it in
Our mask is a shadow that screams.
Lanky and pale, covering the charred wood
Which the cows once stared beyond
Thanking the morning alarms that counts heart beats,
Bloody stars offered up to coal stained buildings
Under rolls of metallic towers.
1/100 of a beat is a clear rendering,
But the stench may lick the hand of the obsessive wager,
Who wonders why no one eats meat anymore,
With glazed mad but cow-like disease.
Sometimes - the crank - slab -
Covering out enameled selves with Plaque
Rightly with yellow slime
Grinding, smacking wooden lips
Watching the shine before the grease pit
Ebony lie.
Northerners starve out restlessness
Affording little thanks: they conjure up stepping stones through threes.
A fire is meek,
Outward seeking, toward lagging guests.
Of Mining towns now elated, and he showed to be but a leaf.
Take none - when is it that you spoke last? Squeak then.
And what are you drinking, why do you drink that?
Logos leave before they say when to sip.
I wish we were in Hades, at seven.
Then living women that could see stones and leek.
From where comes that touch?
From under the door.
And where comes the touch?
Some drinking, four new ways of drinking.
You know a way of new peeking? Of linking?
Of slinking?
Can't stand those lanky loud clocks sounding through places.
Are you up yet? Have you wet the bed?
Yell away - FUCK! - buzz - that's worthless -
So delirious it smarts.
Why do we drink today? Milk? What we gulp at noon?
I shall not head up the stairs, with my head on the rail.
Soon my hair will wet of with booze - will they pull through?
Chanting at 1 - that's late, at. . .
And sissy, you're drawing out tanks at nine.
Are you Kira, there, playing with name and eyes' wide canvas
Walking with locks in empty crevasses?
When the hand got lopped off, I said –
I didn’t gargle loudly, though a mess of slurs
YOU SHUT UP, PLEASE ITS NINE
Now all stars stay down, so make the cut wider
They’ll want to know that you’re done groaning – you haven't?
Get your ass up: an addict shouldn't waste time.
We're all out, Tom, you got ta nick that.
He said a junky – can’t bear the pepper spray on her.
And bleeding all out – she said – think of the pink elephants,
On the circus front passed Vegas, They'll give him a good time,
And if they don’t, others out there will – I said.
Abandon lots there, shredding – sums as green as lettuce, eh?
Then we’ll go to the bank, we said, and then gave him a stained book.
SURE SHOW HIM A GOOD TIME
If you don’t like this, we can take 10 off it.
Others have bongs and cigs, like 7-11.
But if our deal takes off, it won’t be for slacking off.
Droughts of lame brand, we made to look like shadows.
(And they're mind became blurred.)
I can tell you – Stealing sideways glances,
Chasing pills we thought brings it down softly.
(She’s had five times as many – almost died when younger.)
Thickness says it'll be alright, but I’ve never thought much of that.
You gave me a proper hell– we know.
But if our tails would wag, you'd be – there, at least.
When you’re maimed for protecting children –
SHUT UP – PLEASE ITS NINE
Well, someday we’ll be home, with a small red truck
And our aching backs 'ill lie on billow softness –
SHUT UP – PLEASE ITS NINE
SHUT UP – PLEASE ITS NINE
Goodnight Tom. Goodnight Dick. Be good, Maybell. Goodnight –
Take that out before 10 – cold evening.
Good night,
sweating off maybes – the anti-drug – goodnight.
The bank's Lent is a token: The Fasting singers of Joseph
Lurch and fall into the septic tanks. The sound
Crossed the yellow land, heard. The sylphs stood.
Sweet Strawberry, run softly, till I end my tale.
The creek bears many empty bottles, sandwich papers,
old exams, cardboard boxes, cigarette butts
And other testimonies of studious nights. The sylphs stood still.
And their foes, the stalking husks of what might be men;
Stood, leaving deep foot prints.
By the pavement of Channing I sat down and laughed . . .
Sweet Strawberry, run softly till I end my tale,
Sweet Strawberry, run softly, for I squeak not for the mall.
But at my side in a hot blast I bear
The rattle of fences, and grin spread from eye to eye.
A snake weaved gently through the canopy
Dragging its sliver venom across each branch
While I was reading in the ugly cafe
On a spring afternoon round behind the campus hall
Musing upon the Regents my professor’s wreck
And on the Regents my peer’s death before them.
Rainbow bodies clothed on the high dry ground
And stones lasting in a little low wet garage,
Tossed by the snake's tail only, week to week.
But at my side from minute to minute I hear
The wind of hours and months, which shall bring
Summer to Mr. Win in the spring.
Only the sun did not shine on Mr. Win
And on his store
He whitewashed it with his big toe.
It seemed like de thing, chant chant, to do!
Wip wip wip
slug slug slug slug slug slug
Not easily forced.
On days that end with y.
Shack of organic fertility, juggling
Drapes pastel fluff panting for want of fans
Pitting brittle fibers together
Gain - for - gain - slack seals slack
Aging the air of hours awake.
For one wind pushing against the necks of
Large men who follow their tongue into the dusty bowls
Spoils of Wall Street cracking grounded gourds once lush
Giant elders - bronze against the sun -
Waiting for an explanation for Job.
Flying to route 66 - muffler - descent -
Into neighboring camps sleeping off heated blood.
Ignorant they seem, high strung
But history preached to us - germinating indifferent society.
Swelling seams in stitched hollowed pants - we starve.
Leave - Bring back the rain - we are here, still
(is this what they wanted to write)
But tempting to be dismissed - refugees of Right-wing diplomacy
Waiting a pitiless sky - where night should settle
The shame that rests on masculine necks,
Stretching upward stakes - seemingly to state -
Letting him hear alarmed gossips speak.
Strife, let it all alone - shut up
Those holes awhile, listen to that long night sound, like
Skittering cats behind, mewing besides bedposts for years.
Plastic barrels snap open and closed, like hungry maws
Filling up with dried saliva.
Hives pop - I'm seeing
But not discerning.
Percepts of cool spring nights,
West, north, south, east winds
Soaring, stealing, slithering, slashing
Whispering.
I laugh - thankful shadows.
Equalizer - pressing false death on sleepless lids,
Against unmade beds.
But I shall do no mischief here -
The day stands at the ready, but
I have drank warm milk,
My feet stagger on an imagined road
Logos blink off and on from a dreadful box - Spattering
Buy and buy and buy and buy and buy and buy and
Shut up - I hear mutter my sleeps first victim
Echoed in the image of a cat glaring
Calling away sounds of stumbling humans
(Could have done well to live with dogs)
Air retorts.
Raping against - stones - walls - windows
Surmising the premises with vibrations
Spying everywhere - I have left nowhere
For everywhere
I move myself through it - against it
Dung beetles
Smelly brown bugs breaking, rolling, enriched bull shit,
Stinking so freely, they bear the weight of new generations,
Knowing that Swift made a mockery out of what they thrive in,
They lose nothing to sensual sensations, tripping over
Old grass covered dung, cows making pie solid in the noon time sun
Ensuring fame in a slide by a former vice president
Leading into an era of CH4 factories
Where slaughter houses once stood
One litter to warm the steak.
As
Humble pride, let the Hybrids
Soar down redden highways, souring a lust for muscle.
Let the Ipods scream stolen songs throughout the night,
Proclaiming a nation intellectual and aesthetic thieves
Hypocrisy.
Listening to groaning over the micro-phonic wreckage
A plaque encase jewel - breaking
Curling irons. Iconic blonds stomp out and turn brunette:
There, speaking of the Devil, shivering among others with less GDP
Within the efflorescent light bulbs tricking fountains of
Delays not complete in utter absence
Sense.
Lonely minutes, mules of Teacake, sighing, letting others shun the mule
Sojourner Truth. Ravaging Puritans, elevating divas, tail-light-breaking Bobby brown
All that is gain - we consume.
Stoppers fear, the dark locks that curl too tightly,
Closing in among the air above the skull
Thoughts straggled among dark clumps and burning
In a fresh breakable ceramic straightening maching - biting down
With electric heat, depriving thoughts of
Hiding places, besieged.
And the fathers never come, seeking daughters,
Brushing their leaves with cocoa butter,
Staying across the bay from birth town
Redden sky mirroring burns
Rightfully pinning up- ashy skin -
Crying for that last moment, hearing years,
Of white bow ties and picture days.
To beautify
To make the invisible visible
To mock Cotton Mather while
Breaking from the self into
Straying others forming lines mystifying
Pecan colored drakes flying for the ledge.
This dated verse gives me no satisfaction -
For you know, reading
Stinks.
Icing, melting
Heat rising, striking frets with leaden spoons,
Mimicking tongues of apricot hearts at sun-set:
Bricka-bricka-bricka
Sit her now, there, in his old arm care,
Footsteps sliding leaving long minuets press against that kalamansi, her and there
Leaves grace the lace, laborious, rooting, budding,
Everyone a delineated sigh: Drying,
Losing my time, walking with stiff nerves, cracking under kindness, the last
Sugar frosted flakes, bottom of a bowl, caught on an upside down moon and within a sea of white.
Oh do I slurp these misshapen heads, sighing away on broken nightmares again and again and again.
Lice, being minced, flickered, scorched for the last flipping time to hide:
Hearing aids as trophies cased in cardboard, spreading old riddles as new wares
Rhyming dimly with lily
Freeing.
The Mall stalkers are treading
Their wallets vomiting thousands of one's -
A man places plastic over furniture, seeing shedding dogs-
One can be too careful carrying bags, caring the nutrition.
Coos to cries toward the cemented skies
We tossed in our weight. Checking expropriation dates
Fortifying fibers and sweets and baby wipes;
Tomorrow we'll be back wanting something we forgot
Funny how something small (pick up eggs) can lead to a truck load,
Singing, pulling, lugging, stretching, placing the packets away -
Spending too much as usual, the baby can't sleep.
Should've churned that butter myself for the price - under the credit card
Violet pjs - see, it's smooth - they wanted 10 I found it for 5:
Show adaptability to save.
Women might live, aspiring for immortality within a 3 pound pooh-dispenser
Lock - check - lock - ing - lock - every - shut down - thing
To keep out that boogy man full of worms. Glad to have fairy tales
When she lies down flattened by tales that would lock the lids down
The Mall softly hums the suburb to sleep.
Coffee grounds of dark brown confectionary godliness
Make waking soundly
Lurching out of bed, for this one
Day standing still in the number seven
Numbing the times utterly complete.
We, change course, growling in search of
SANITY
Where eventually hell will be a Starbucks or Jamba Juice in the wake of medication –
Knowing that half and half gives no rest
Stale senses are
Foliage for walking tankers scattered on sidewalks,
Caffeinated neurons will show up in an autopsy.
Sedation pills, masked feats wondrous
Covering us with false filmy husks chocking in silence
The cicadas started humming on tree trunks
Sound ringing like jackhammers against skulls
SANITY
The candle is out, drip by drip, as empty as
Weekends lying between midterms
Like a bad chorus line, something Pop divas would do.
Standing for approval unbecoming any stage.
Trashy haircuts covering eye lids for protection, but skimpy
Leaving no traces of what you were before. Like rain
SANITY
It's genuine to have speckled skin nowadays! Faking one’s weight at the toll booth,
Categorizing lumps from humps
How much is the boost?
Gilding tissues across Botox faces, I see, it cost too much,
Smooth, lazing, establishment
They might have to see what the noise outside is about.
Not my problem if a trucker hits a biker under,
The monkey clerk sighs,
And I, disinclined to wait for hicks and sluts,
Order something that they don't have,
I rip my wallet open anyways, and take a dusty handful
Out of incubation and grimace at the wasted feed.
Shamed and Shamed my financial mistakes,
Until the cardboard cup trickles out black addictive gold
The sun follows, its course outside,
Shinning overhead to the growing population of mites below
Of hooligans.
The good must win.
(With a wad of cash) - I take a deep sip.