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family poem

je ne puis pas toujours sentir son greatness
calme en tant que que deuxième été
qui appellera le vent
bougies se renversant en longueur dans des bidons de tomate
pour venir tellement bientôt à ceci a imaginé l'obscurité
hors du profond et de l'obscurité
quand, plein de l'amour chaud et désireux
un stylo d'acier
c'est l'arsenal
dans ma main je me tiens
bruits qui tâchent de déchirer
quand vous venez ce soir
éliminer, luttant vainly

 



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