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suicide poetry

dal ponticello rude
vado il mio senso complacently
quelli sul superiore dicono che li conoscono, terra -- sono liars
calma come che seconda estate
poiché ho ritenuto il senso della morte
quando il vento funziona contro di noi nell'oscurità
un cielo che non ha conosciuto mai il sole, la luna o le stelle
possono comunicare di amore in un cottage
ho vinto la corsa
diami la fame
così perso
la gradisco
sentite la pioggia?

 



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