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graduation poem

a arqué l'inondation
j'ai vu les archangels dans mon pomme-arbre la nuit passée
ne restez pas plus
à travers He va
la neige chuchote au sujet de moi
peut-être ce n'est aucune matière que vous êtes morte
un regard est mais un rayon
il n'y a aucune bande, toutefois observé et tendu
avec la joie et la merveille
dépassement par les murs blottis et laids
avec le coucher du soleil

 



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