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memorial poem

qui aime la pluie
nous nous étendons
gros mâles noirs dans une salle de vin-baril
remplacez la vision du plaisir
le maître des destins humains suis moi
je réside à la montagne de table
le petit pitoyable, porté, visages de rire
pourquoi sont les choses qui n'ont aucune mort
calme en tant que que deuxième été
je la pense splendide juste
et comment avez osé vous rêve de la réunion
j'ai regardé sur le ciel glorieux

 



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