The very first screw
went all crooked
after that
doesn't seem to matter
how I yell and scream
and kick at her
The very last bit
simply will not
fit
and here I thought I'd found
something beautiful
something lasting
something nice
for my room
instead
I find
I'm swearing
something awful
like a sailor having to sober
after a bout of drinking
only to find himself
a newlywed groom
damn IKEA anyway
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem