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mother poem

esprimiamo le nostre passioni piů basse
sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare
gloom
potremmo ma sapere
per potere vedere ogni lato di ogni domanda
agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
sono vecchio e cieco
piantiamo
stella-polvere e luce vaporous
la mia anima č un campo arato scuro
il bambino che ha gettato via il foglio dopo il foglio
riassunto su una notte di volo
le ombre pongono lungo broadway

 



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