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wer den Wind nennen wird
der Geruch von stieg so falsch, die zutreffenden Dornen so
bleiben Sie nicht mehr
zum leidenschaftlichen Geliebten
es gibt keine Menge, gleichwohl aufgepaßt und geneigt
hoch-getragenes Rennen
durch die rude Brücke
dieses ist der Song von Jugend
ich halte Ihr Herz

 



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  • Idiolexicon Poetry Series #7 - SFStation.com
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  • Kaplan and Newsweek Award $15000 to Winners of the 14th Annual "My ... - Earthtimes (press release)
  • Where's Weldon? - Los Angeles Times
  • Profile: Mahmoud Darwish - Al Jazeera
  • Neighborhood center showcases fashions and poetry Wednesday - Tallahassee Democrat
  • Why Sagging Pants are Conspicuously still In Style. - Political Affairs Magazine
  • Leather Maiden - Austin Chronicle
  • Art in the right place - Guardian Unlimited
 

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