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concrete poetry

j'ai vu les archangels dans mon pomme-arbre la nuit passée
dans ma main je me tiens
pour moi étais un conseiller décharné et grave
dernier minuit
de la chanson et du rêve pour jamais allé
truely
mélancolie, bleu il était
souffleur de verre de temps
exister de cygne
le parfum est venu
je les ai entendus la nuit
serene d'après-midi et lumineux verts
ils me demandent où j'ai été

 



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