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friendship poetry

la nerezza rotola verso l'alto
perchè allora, il mosto noi vede?
era un oysterman giovane alto
non brucio incenso
dai prati ricchi con cereale
che probabilitĂ  spiteful ruba i unawares
i nostri momenti piacevoli volano
come livellare cade
splendor dolce
un'ombra grigia sottile sul bordo di pensiero
il mio figlio è guasto e sono ciechi andanti
come come le stelle è questo il bianco, facce nameless
dal puntello, dal mare
ultima mezzanotte

 



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