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narrative poetry

ho vinto la corsa
se muoio, pensi soltanto questo me
dice a di buoni vecchi periodi
possono comunicare di amore in un cottage
sopra i tetti corra le ombre delle nubi
sopra loro tutte, osservando giù
era un oysterman giovane alto
ciò è l'arsenale
i cieli che erano ashen e sobrio
dal ponticello rude
diami la fame
noi che si sono levati in piedi
rompiamo il vetro di cui vino sacred
quando un atto è fatto per la libertà

 



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