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la mia anima è un campo arato scuro
ma non posso ora leggerlo
persino avrebbe suo scherzo
ci era un momento durante gli anni precedenti
ho sentito tutto il giorno il vento
truely
città che non è una città
quando ero si è rotto a Londra
la nerezza rotola verso l'alto
musing, fra il tramonto e l'oscuritĂ 
stella-polvere e luce vaporous

 



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  • Random Acts of Poetry - Kingston Whig
  • Shea Stadium, By Phil Taylor - CNN Sports Illustrated
  • Pop poet turns wordy rock star - The List
  • Book of a lifetime: The Assemblies, By Al-Hariri of Basra - Independent
  • Obama fires up old magic - Arab News
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  • Promoting reading habit via Selangor Book Fair - New Straits Times
 

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