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sad poetry

era uma oysterman novo alto
e como poderia você sonho da reunião
de nossos lugares escondidos
quando eu era quebrou em Londres
bonito
em sua barraca guardada
com vermelho do sangue dos bordos e coração da pedra
pharaoh, rei da terra de Egipto
macio como a cama na terra
eu não queimo nenhum incense
qual eu desejo observar
tiveram e i mas encontrado com
flor branca da espuma, flor vermelha da flama
as verdades terríveis estes sejam

 



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