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funny poetry

je dois dire bonne nuit
si le tueur rouge pensent il massacre
son visage est juste et lisse et bon
quand les mer-vents ont percé nos solitudes
il y a trois manières dont les hommes prennent
et mon nom est véridique
soudainement, hors des manières foncées et feuillues
pourquoi puis, la nécessité nous voient?
ces yeux noirs i une fois ainsi félicité
les ombres des bateaux
les longs couloirs de marbre resounding

 



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