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poem for pastors

le long d'une rive
je vous ai détesté
l'air est comme un papillon
oranges de plumaison nubian bleu-noires
composé seul du loveliness
et pain de breaketh pas plus
chantez-encore à la chanson vous chanté
souvent je pense à la belle ville
sous ma fenêtre dans une rue de ville
tranquillement, avec le reverance, dans la crainte
je me demande parfois s'il est vraiment vrai
je dois dire bonne nuit
dans leurs regimentals loqueteux

 



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