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narrative poetry

eu ganhei a raça
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
diz de épocas velhas boas
podem falar do amor em uma casa de campo
sobre os rooftops compita as sombras das nuvens
acima deles todos, olhando para baixo
era uma oysterman novo alto
este é o arsenal
os céus que eram ashen e sober
pela ponte rude
dê-me a fome
nós que estiveram
nós quebramos o vidro cujo vinho sacred
quando uma ação for feita para a liberdade

 



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