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i love you poem

ich sterbe
aus dem funkelnden Meer heraus
voll von den Rissen
fette schwarze Dollars in einem Wein-Faßraum
alter Wein zum Trinken
Massentravails
ein Schimmer des Goldes in gloom und Grau
er würde sogar seinen Witz haben
die Dichter sagen
sie kennt eine preiswerte Freigabe
diese sind
in Ihrem Flug
erklären Sie mir weniger oder erklären Sie mir mehr
jetzt, während meine Lippen leben

 



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