The impossible
window.
the irregular
train track
through
the plastic
middle.
the king hell
bummer
wielding
an ax
in
Times Square.
the bloody
red
stain
and the rain
that falls
like
steel over
the maze.
the bread crumbs you
dropped
along the way are
the only clues
you have to
get out of
this maze.
where did they
go?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem