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funeral poem

a escuridão
havia três no prado pelo ribeiro
em setembro
carrinho aqui por meu lado
uma tempestade está montando na maré
f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de
nós colocamos
eu não posso dizê-lo agora
última meia-noite
babylon -- onde eu vou sonhar
que possibilidade spiteful rouba unawares
escute o mar soando
eu quero saber às vezes se for realmente verdadeiro
quando o vento trabalhar de encontro a nós na obscuridade

 



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