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un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
potrebbe conoscerla nella molla piů in anticipo
osservare di lŕ
il giorno č fatto
un cielo che non ha conosciuto mai il sole, la luna o le stelle
morbidamente ora la luce del giorno
in pieno delle rotture
fiori dei bambini
ho detto
nei loro regimentals ragged
siete vivi?

 



Poetry news via Google, MSN, and Yahoo!

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  • Thursday, July 10 - Advocate Weekly
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  • Byronic Burlesque Comes to Brooklyn—The Madame's Poetry Brothel - Nypress.com
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  • Mark your calendar: Aug. 7, 2008 (The Union)
  • Winners Announced for First-Ever AFL-CIO Online Video Competition - Forbes
  • The Longest Walk (update - Haleakala Times
  • Buried, razed – but not forgotten (THE TIMES) - Peninsula
 

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