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child poetry

bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
a noite Ă© escura, e os ventos do inverno
havia nunca um som ao lado da madeira mas de uma
mulher boa
nossos momentos agradáveis voam
porque
tem um espaço livre, loveliness vento-protegido
deixe-me mover-se lentamente através da rua
pela ponte rude
temos nĂłs nenhum shame?
eu verei uma estrela hoje Ă  noite
eu resido na montanha da tabela

 



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