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def poetry jam

Ă  minuit
le petit pitoyable, porté, visages de rire
quand je suis retourné au coucher du soleil
j'ai entendu le vent toute la journée
je descends les chemins de jardin
il y avait de trois dans le pré par le ruisseau
je remplis cette tasse
une histoire très remarquable ceci est
ombres à ailes balayant près
et pain de breaketh pas plus
au-dessus du fleuve, sur la colline
la terre garde aller de vibration

 



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