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halloween poem

babylon -- wo ich gehe zu träumen
wenn der Wind gegen uns in der Dunkelheit arbeitet
alter Wein zum Trinken
als ich am Sonnenuntergang zurückkam
der Geruch von stieg so falsch, die zutreffenden Dornen so
und mein Name ist truthful
in Ihren Armen war ruhige Freude
lassen Sie uns unsere niedrigeren Neigungen ausdrücken
sehr gut Sie Liberale
das endlose, dumme merriment der Sterne
ich sah die erste Birne
im Hafen neuen Yorks
den brennenden Gedanken kleiden

 



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