I pause the song because /
I can't remember any more /
my father being handcuffed and chained by multiple US government agents holding machine guns instead of warrants at five o'clock in the morning / the taste of grade A synthetic supermarket see-through squeeze bottle maple syrup in the shape of a woman on sale in aisle two / how the Florida State Receiver later instructed the armed mercenaries to rummage like rabid badgers through the abode by leaving each room in the shape of an overturned garbage can / the pain caused by autumnal crosswinds carving out facial imperfections like a conduit or close where tears can stagnate / my mother's hysteric bellows as she watched a bunch of unmasked strangers break up twenty years of marriage floorboard by floorboard / the sound of each snowflake committing hara-kiri is murder under the weight of chained tires /
the
song
starts
up
again /
and it is I who breaks down and cries
as if music was flowing, was made of tears
or memories were music
and hitting pause is all we need ever fear
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A sad and horrifying tale told in eloquent finesse. It touched my heart. Thanks for sharing and do remain enriched.