As you work in lights hanging over
An empty bedroom, soon I will be a teacher in
A high school all of my peers left
A decade ago
There still will be: the baseball diamonds,
The fields of green alligators,
The lunch rooms, and the sing - song truancy:
And I will find a way again to
Forget myself unconventionally:
The echoes of footfalls like raindrops,
The students of a mind that they go home to
Singing to their televisions at a steady trot:
And if I skip my own classes to light off fireworks,
To remember her shallow tails as the memories
Remember me,
Then I will be the thing who is still there,
Like a monster with a beautiful face who never
Was asked to leave for the tundra of Russia
Or Antarctica- and the music will play
Slowly across the desks of graffiti
And the sun will spin, illuminating all of the ghosts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem