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sad poem

course haut-soutenue
une brume entraînait une réduction
il est allé
par de la large le sein faisant mal terre
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
puisque, si vous vous teniez prêt mon côté aujourd'hui
Ă  certains les gros dieux
ce que je souhaite remarquer
je ne brûle aucun encens
au-dessus d'elles toutes, regardant vers le bas
un mille derrière
l'air est comme un papillon
j'ai moulé le monde
ombres étendues le long de broadway

 



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