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child poem

lassen Sie nicht hören
vor er war viele und viel einem Jahr
Sitzen in seinem Schalthebel, der Ihren Tee wartet
unter den Rauch und Nebel eines Dezembernachmittages
er war ein hohes junges oysterman
Material des Mondes
und mein Name ist truthful
tat Sie sehen überhaupt ein Krokodil
herauf von den Süden am Bruch des Tages
ich liege am Tabellenberg
es gab drei in der Wiese durch den Bach
da ich der Richtung des Todes geglaubt habe


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