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def poetry jam

bruits qui tâchent de déchirer
il n'y avait jamais un bruit près du bois mais d'un
sous un arbre de propagation de châtaigne
quand les mer-vents ont percé nos solitudes
ma mère m'a enseigné que chaque nuit
tristement parlant
elle a un espace libre, loveliness vent-abrité
je me suis tenu prêt le tissu pour rideaux ouvert
les voûtes du pont rouge
les ombres des bateaux
dans une vieille chambre s'est doucement allumé

 



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