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funny poem

la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
è venuto prenderlo dalla mano
dolce e forte
quanto selvaggio, come strega-come bizzarro che la vita dovrebbe essere
movimento del vostro corpo è come musica
un pensiero dolce solenne
una penna di acciaio
ancora il suo gray oscilla la torretta sopra il mare
la penso splendido giusto
osservi fuori sulle stelle, il mio amore
oscillato nella culla del profondo
forse è materia che avete morto

 



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