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prose poetry

così caduto
alla mezzanotte
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
con gli occhi meek e marroni
la gradisco
non c'sono nessuna preda io dei pensieri difficili
diami la fame
sia paziente, vita, quando l'amore è al cancello
sotto il timone del guerriero
sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare
su e giù va
aranci di coglitura nubian blu-neri
ha sentito i bambini giocare al sole
ci sono guadagni per tutte le nostre perdite

 



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