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thanksgiving poetry

como selvagem, como bruxa-como estranho que a vida deve ser
o que mim lhe devem
eu penso d esplêndido justo
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
dê-me a fome
nós colocamos
pouco parque que eu passo completamente
todos quiet ao longo do potomac
deixe-me mover-se lentamente através da rua
o céu
eu não posso dizê-lo agora
deixe-me ser sad
eu sou o vento que wavers
para trás, gire para trás

 



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