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poetry poem

minha alma vai clad em coisas gorgeous
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
burly, humble-abelha aplanar
um com você
esse companheiro estranho veio em baralhar os pés
cante-o outra vez à canção cantado
aqueles olhos pretos i elogiado uma vez assim
melhore do que o granito
eu sobre-tinha preparado o evento
desolado e solitário
eighty anos passaram, e mais
fora de mim unworthy e desconhecido
o sol está acima
diz de épocas velhas boas

 



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