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suicide poetry

er kam mich durch die Hand nehmen
Glück
königliches Fest war erfolgt
ich gehe meine Weise complacently
aber alas, gerade Träume
die Schwärzung stiehlt die Formen aller Königinnen
der alte Westen, die alte Zeit
erklären Sie mir nicht
die langen resounding Marmorflure
aller Tag zum Aufpassen der blauen Welle sich zu kräuseln und zu brechen
auf und an
ich habe das Rennen gewonnen
ich loathed Sie

 



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