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mother daughter poem

wenn ihr Haar wild flaying
fette schwarze Dollars in einem Wein-Faßraum
sie kennt eine preiswerte Freigabe
ist häufig er nicht so?
geschaukelt in die Aufnahmevorrichtung vom tiefen
Himmel, die sie waren, ashen und nüchtern
sie sprengte fierce Wein
ich kann nicht seinem greatness immer glauben
jene schwarzen Augen I einmal so gepriesen
der Schnee whispers über mich
er war ein hohes junges oysterman
erklären Sie mir nicht
das traurigste des Jahres
jetzt für einen lebhaften und freundlichen Kampf

 



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