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haiku poem

was es die gesagten Maschinen war
Tochter, thoukunst kommen zu sterben
fette schwarze Dollars in einem Wein-Faßraum
Sie sind mein Begleiter
O angemessen und stately Mädchen, dessen Augen
Schriftsatz auf einer Fliegennacht
lassen Sie uns errichten
was wir jetzt tut
ihr schönes Haar
wickeln Sie die Masse im bewölkten Wetter auf
Moonlight tief und zart

 



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