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narrative poetry

o que nós fará agora
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
temos nós nenhum shame?
o justo e stately empregada doméstica, cujos olhos
eighty anos passaram, e mais
o relâmpago piscou, e levantou
deixe-me ser sad
um gleam do ouro no gloom e no cinza
em todas as coisas não faladas de
deixe-me mover-se lentamente através da rua
eu gosto d
o prado estava rastejando
a música i ouvido com você era mais do que a música

 



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