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suicide poetry

quand les mer-vents ont percé nos solitudes
si j'avais su l'étroit une prison est amour
quand je vais de nouveau à la terre
pourquoi sont les choses qui n'ont aucune mort
ombres à ailes balayant près
si je meurs, pensez seulement ceci à moi
ils me demandent où j'ai été
short et doux, et nous sommes arrivés à la fin de lui
ainsi tombé
dans des nombres mournful
je suis las d'être amer et las d'être sage

 



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