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teen poem

substance de la lune
travails de la terre
c'est l'arsenal
nous n'étions pas beaucoup
fait longtemps polir la lumière du soleil d'été
à certains les gros dieux
améliorez que le granit
nous cassons le verre dont le vin sacré
nous nous étendons
babylon -- où je vais rêver
j'aime voler pendant quelque temps loin
l'enfant qui a jeté la feuille après feuille
à partir des prés riches avec du maïs

 



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