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father poem

wie er wer Geist in der Flamme des Mittages
obwohl Lieberepine und Grundscheuern
er würde sogar seinen Witz haben
ich sterbe
wenn ich gekonnt hatte, Enge ein Gefängnis Liebe ist
was spiteful Wahrscheinlichkeit unawares stiehlt
ich sagte, ich habe geschlossen mein Herz
so gefallen
als Meer-Winde unsere Solitudes durchbohrten
Schlaf süß in Ihren humble Gräbern
dieses Jahr
was ich Ihnen verdanken

 



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