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nós que estiveram
a algum os deuses gordos
os corredores de mármore resounding longos
velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
ao amante passionate
envolva a terra no tempo cloudy
muito bem, você liberais
pouca porta foi alcançada no último
eu agito meu cabelo no vento da manhã
musing, entre o por do sol e a obscuridade
eu despise meus amigos mais do que você
quando uma ação for feita para a liberdade
sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
eu resido na montanha da tabela

 



Poetry news via Google, MSN, and Yahoo!

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  • Night of free cultural events goes nationwide - Irish Times
  • Iran announces programs in commemorating Rudaki in Tajikistan - MehrNews.com
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  • Girls Fall Down - PopMatters
  • What Boys Really Want - Newsweek
  • Booze Hound - Doraku - Miami New Times
  • Ben Zycher of the Manhattan Institute sends this: - National Review Online Blogs
  • Poetry contest announced (Moorpark Acorn)
  • Finish Line: Dan Cook Dies at 81 - 1200 WOAI
  • Art project celebrates landscapes - The Press Association
  • How did anthrax suspect Ivins keep security clearance? (The Christian Science Monitor)
 

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