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funny poem

all'alba, ha detto
cittŕ che non č una cittŕ
chi č il corridore nei cieli
sentite la pioggia?
rumori che si sforzano strapparsi
li prevedo
ottanta anni hanno passato e piů
la mia madre twines me rose bagnate con rugiada
ho visto la prima pera
splendido e terribile il vostro amore
l'agonia di avere troppa alimentazione
sono stancare di essere amaro e stancare di essere saggio
ciň č la nave della perla
per potere vedere ogni lato di ogni domanda

 



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