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mom poem

alti pareti ed enorme
era l'autunno dell'anno
sopra il fiume beckon a me
nelle mattine nube-grige
veda, da questa falsificazione di lui
come esso
pensieri tramite la mia testa
tutti dentro e tutti senza di me
bucks neri grassi in una stanza del vino-barilotto
non posso ora dirvi
buona donna
semplicemente parlando
con di anima dei labbri colore rosso e cuore della pietra
dai prati ricchi con cereale

 



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