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narrative poetry

este é o arsenal
os dias melancólicos vieram
ame-me no último, ou se você não
o dia é feito
na esfera
nossos momentos agradáveis voam
fala não bem
o cheiro do levantou-se assim falso, os espinhos assim verdadeiros
um céu que nunca soubesse o sol, a lua ou as estrelas
os dias hypocritic
como deva mim ajude à direita ao mundo que está indo erradamente
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
ouviu as crianças jogar no sol
o corpo pode confinar

 



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