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mom poem

hohe Wnde und sehr gro
es war der Herbst des Jahres
ber dem Flu winken sie zu mir zu
in den Wolke-grauen Morgen
sehen Sie, von dieser Flschung von ihm
als es
Gedanken durch meinen Kopf
alle innen und alle ohne mich
fette schwarze Dollars in einem Wein-Faraum
ich kann nicht Ihnen jetzt erklren
gute Frau
einfach sprechend
mit Lippenblut Rot und Herz des Steins
herauf von die Wiesen reich mit Mais

 



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