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baby shower poem

aller Tag zum Aufpassen der blauen Welle sich zu kräuseln und zu brechen
eine Feder des Stahls
wir brechen das Glas dessen sacred Wein
ich starrte den prachtvollen Himmel an
der alte Westen, die alte Zeit
obwohl Lieberepine und Grundscheuern
ich wußte nie, daß die Masse soviel Gold hatte
Überschreiten durch die huddled und häßlichen Wände
das endlose, dumme merriment der Sterne
ich gehe hinunter die Gartenwege
wie er wer Geist in der Flamme des Mittages
noch dreizehn Jahre
erklären Sie mir weniger oder erklären Sie mir mehr

 



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