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writing poetry

nel porto di nuovo York
li prevedo
con il tramonto
desolato e solo
ora per una lotta attiva e cheerful
i poets dicono a
non sia falso
dal pavimento al soffitto
appena come mie barrette su queste chiavi
short e dolce ed abbiamo arrivato alla fine di esso
all'interno della mia mano tengo
se muoio, pensi soltanto questo me
perchè sono le cose che non hanno morte
una pesca piccola nel frutteto si è sviluppata

 



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