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slam poetry

nous cassons le verre dont le vin sacré
là par la fenêtre dans la vieille maison
travails de la terre
j'ai vu avec les yeux ouverts
il y a trois manières dont les hommes prennent
quand je suis retourné au coucher du soleil
a arqué l'inondation
une fois ce gazon mou
avec les yeux doux et bruns
vous êtes clair
j'ai hérité le désert parce que mon âme est assoiffée
il aurait même sa plaisanterie

 



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