Is there no remedy
for you?
With the sky below your eyes,
remembering everything quantum mechanics taught you
about orange juice and reflexes.
Crawling through tunnels to your
father-in-hiding
because kansas is bleeding and
amidst boulders you crouch,
stifling sneezes and nose
bleeds.
Men who watch you
bite your nails and
you know better than to hold
your head high,
dear
escape through cornfields;
it’s quite warm at the bottom,
quite still.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem