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sad death poem

riempio questa tazza
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
calma come che seconda estate
sopra il fiume, sulla collina
morbidamente piangendo
il lampo ha esposto a flash ed ha alzato
ora
nel porto di nuovo York
senza dubbio mi ricordo di ancora
l'aria è come una farfalla
come candela bianca
bucks neri grassi in una stanza del vino-barilotto
babylon -- dove vado sognare
ha scoppiato il vino feroce

 



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