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son poem

quanto selvaggio, come strega-come bizzarro che la vita dovrebbe essere
non prego per pace
non c'sono nessuna preda io dei pensieri difficili
uplifting, come il vento ha saltato
morbidamente ora la luce del giorno
il rullo triste del tamburo desonorizzato ha battimento
debole-è traversata la canzone
le preghiere bianche piccole
siete il mio compagno
tramite il seno facente male della vasta terra
mi sono levato in piedi
l'agonia di avere troppa alimentazione
passato inesorabile di thou

 



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