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suicide poetry

nossos momentos agradáveis voam
uma pena do aço
e enquanto nós andamos a grama foi agitada fraca
quando você vier hoje à noite
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
do sol nem das estrelas
nós quebramos o vidro cujo vinho sacred
nós colocamos
o justo e stately empregada doméstica, cujos olhos
não gire sua cabeça
poderíamos nós mas para saber
macia agora a luz do dia
assim perdido

 



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