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memorial poem

quem ama a chuva
nós colocamos
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
renove a visão do prazer
o mestre de destinies humanos é mim
eu resido na montanha da tabela
o pitiful pequeno, desgastado, caras rir
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
calma como que segundo verão
eu penso d esplêndido justo
e como poderia você sonho da reunião
eu olhei em cima do céu glorious

 



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