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break up poem

aumentato dai morti
ho fatto una volta soltanto un voto, uno
l'aria è piena l'alba del e la molla
la nerezza ruba le forme di tutte le regine
impaurito nient'altro, dico
potrebbe conoscerla nella molla più in anticipo
e con l'uccello di ronzio
alcuni giorni più ventosi
improvvisamente, dai sensi scuri e frondosi
travails della terra
bucks neri grassi in una stanza del vino-barilotto
nobility della morte ancora

 



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