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eu estou cantando-lhe
é verdadeiro que você diz que os deuses lhe são mais uso do que fairies
em uma câmara velha iluminou-se macia
não do mundo largo do todo
os dias hypocritic
eu amo minha vida, mas não demasiado bem
a escuridão rola para cima
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
fraco-é voada a canção
simplesmente falando
nos salões do sono você vagueou perto
eu espero-o
para a verdade, para o amor

 



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  • Brad Davis To Read Poetry - Hartford Courant
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  • Prestigious Griffin Poetry Prize goes to Blaser and Ashbery - 680 News
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