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slam poetry

Nobility des Todes wieder
was es die gesagten Maschinen war
durch die rude Brücke
süsses splendor
gebildet vom loveliness alleine
wer den Regen liebt
Kurzschluß und süsses und wir sind zum Ende von ihm gekommen
gloom
ein Sturm fährt auf den Tide
ein Himmel, der nie Sonne, Mond oder Sterne gekannt hat
gegen die grüne Flamme des Weißdorn-Baums
Kerzen, die seitlich in den Tomatedosen stürzen

 



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