a raven is stitched as
with the leatherbound
trackwork of a baseball.
it beak is like a mangled
dagger, resembling uncut
fingernails for a lifetime.
its eyes are enlarged tapioca
balls, bursting with milky residue.
it perches on tree roots--as
it suckles on soil & attempts
to rip its wings from underworld
mending.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem