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fall poem

pas du monde large de totalité
frčre, je suis le feu
peut-ętre ce n'est aucune matičre que vous ętes morte
j'ai gagné la course
vous faites entendre
je sais pas oů
ce qui nous fera maintenant
vous pensez, mon garçon, quand je mets mes bras autour de vous
dans la sphčre
gros mâles noirs dans une salle de vin-baril
babylon -- oů je vais ręver
en ce moment
un regard est mais un rayon

 



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