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fall poem

elle a éclaté le vin féroce
je vais ma manière complacently
levé des morts
pour vêtir la pensée ardente
au-dessus d'elles toutes, regardant vers le bas
il aurait même sa plaisanterie
la foudre a clignoté, et s'est soulevée
elle pourrait l'avoir su en ressort premier
le soleil est vers le haut
dites-moi
j'ai aimé une femme
les voûtes du pont rouge
l'obscurité

 



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