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myspace poem

dicami non
perchè allora, il mosto noi vede?
qui cade nessuna luce
stuff della luna
il rullo triste del tamburo desonorizzato ha battimento
fiore bianco della gomma piuma, fiore rosso della fiamma
il prato stava strisciando
in tutte le cose non parlate di
come mi trovo coperto dentro, selezionato dentro
moonlight profondo e tenero
sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare
una penna di acciaio
lungamente fa, nel moonlight giovane

 



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