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baby poem

puisque j'ai senti le sens de la mort
ce compagnon étrange est venu sur brouiller des pieds
voyez, de cette contrefaçon de lui
glooms des vivre-chênes
dans la sphère
mais je ne puis pas vous lire maintenant
seule
un ciel qui n'a jamais connu le soleil, la lune ou les étoiles
il était un jeune oysterman grand
ne restez pas plus
trois jours je les ai entendus s'affliger quand je m'étends complètement
je secoue mes cheveux dans le vent du matin

 



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