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slam poetry

non posso ritenere sempre il suo greatness
ciò è la canzone della gioventù
perchè sono le cose che non hanno morte
un uccello ha cantato
oscillato nella culla del profondo
nel gather di nerezza e chiedono
il vecchio ovest, il vecchio tempo
con di anima dei labbri colore rosso e cuore della pietra
un cielo che non ha conosciuto mai il sole, la luna o le stelle
in pieno delle rotture
ho visto con gli occhi aperti
il prato stava strisciando

 



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