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prose poetry

e nse
há uma hora do descanso calmo
veja, desta moeda falsa dele
um gleam do ouro no gloom e no cinza
ruídos que strive rasgar
desolado e solitário
flor branca da espuma, flor vermelha da flama
onde deva mim encontre-o
se eu for muito certo
têm você andar visto através da vila
eliminar, esforçando-se vainly
eu sou velho e cego
havia um momento em anos anteriores
a algum os deuses gordos

 



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