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baby poem

wenn der rote Slayer denken, slays er
Gedanken durch meinen Kopf
in das leise Land
die Luft ist von Dämmerung und Frühling voll
als ich ein Junge an der Hochschule war
in einem alten Raum beleuchtete weich
er wird gegangen
es war der Herbst des Jahres
Dame, Ihr Herz hat an Staub gewendet
über dem Fluß winken sie zu mir zu
wo ich sollen Sie, finden Sie Sie

 



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