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retirement poem

eu não queimo nenhum incense
eu sei não onde
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
ainda seu cinza balança a torre acima do mar
o mais saddest do ano
era uma oysterman novo alto
pela ponte rude
a escuridão rouba os formulários de todas as rainhas
onde deva mim encontre-o
traga-me a canção macia
apenas como meus dedos nestas chaves
em todas as coisas não faladas de
sobre os rooftops compita as sombras das nuvens
não pendure nenhuma grinalda

 



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