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prose poetry

e enquanto nós andamos a grama foi agitada fraca
mas eu não posso lê-lo agora
não do mundo largo do todo
deixe-nos piedade aqueles de que seja melhor fora do que nós são
se eu souber o narrow uma prisão é amor
o céu
estourou o vinho feroz
você recorda
quando, cheio do amor morno e ansioso
o ar é como uma borboleta

 



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  • Watering the the Indus Valley - Daily Telegraph
  • Diane Sawyer - News Busters
  • City receives $1 million in art for its birthday - Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
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  • Liberty Belle chimes in - The Canberra Times
  • Do North calendar - Eagle Tribune
  • Around our Towns - Today's Sunbeam - NJ.com
 

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