it was barely light out
when I tripped and knocked your
picture off the table, it was
barely light out when I swept
up the glass and wood slivers
with my hands.
it was barely light out
when I pushed past tomorrow
and stood, in front of you, but
you can't play chicken with
a rocket,
you can never stop
the goddamn train.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem