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baby shower poem

aller Tag zum Aufpassen der blauen Welle sich zu kräuseln und zu brechen
Sturm
die Schiffe liegen in der Bucht
schreckliche Wahrheiten diese sind
ein Sturm fährt auf den Tide
welches ich erwähnen möchte
neben einem geschlagenen Feld
schön
desolate und einsam
Kurzschluß und süsses und wir sind zum Ende von ihm gekommen
ich erwarte Sie
was es die gesagten Maschinen war

 



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