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modern poetry

les bateaux se situent dans le compartiment
j'ai gagné la course
nous cassons le verre dont le vin sacré
pourquoi sont les choses qui n'ont aucune mort
vous a fait voient jamais un alligator
elle était une beauté en jours
un dieu
foncé-eyed
la agonie d'avoir trop de puissance
laissez le bel unsaid de mots
je meurs
de nos endroits cachés
le roulement triste du tambour insonorisé a le battement

 



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