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graduation poem

au-dessus d'elles toutes, regardant vers le bas
son gris bascule toujours la tour au-dessus de la mer
j'ai vu que vous hunched et tremblant sur les pierres
la étoile-poussière et lumière vaporeuse
c'est l'arsenal
bruits qui tâchent de déchirer
remplacez la vision du plaisir
nous cassons le verre dont le vin sacré
allé avant nous
faites les garçons et les filles vont toujours
par le pont grossier

 



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