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poetry poem

un poèt, ayant pris le frein outre de sa langue
peu de parc que je traverse
j'ai vu les nuages parmi les collines
regardez avec les yeux longing et savez que je suivrai
ce qui je vous doivent
pour puis en dehors
laissez-moi être triste
un dieu
dans des nombres mournful
quand les mer-vents ont percé nos solitudes
il parle pas bien
il y a bien longtemps, dans le jeune clair de lune
doux comme lit dans la terre

 



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