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narrative poetry

doce e forte
em algum lugar eu li um tale estranho, velho, oxidado
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
glass-blower do tempo
há um país completamente do vinho
eu amo roubar por algum tempo afastado
quando os mar-ventos perfuraram nossos solitudes
rode-me para baixo pelo prado
eu penso d esplêndido justo
eu ouvi-me que uma determinada princesa
pela ponte rude
carrinho aqui por meu lado
mas eu não posso lê-lo agora

 



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