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family poetry

che probabilitŕ spiteful ruba i unawares
uccelli contro il vento di aprile
sonno dolce nelle vostre tombe humble
č ci qualcuno lŕ
poco parco che attraverso
impaurito nient'altro, dico
quelli sul superiore dicono che li conoscono, terra -- sono liars
ha detto
sotto la mia finestra in una via della cittŕ
ho visto i archangels nel mio mela-albero la notte scorsa
della l'oscuritŕ e pace nel mia base finale

 



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