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dark poetry

wickeln Sie die Masse im bewölkten Wetter auf
gerade jetzt
eine sehr bemerkenswerte Geschichte dieses ist
ich bete nicht für Frieden
es gibt Gewinne für alle unsere Verluste
Einfachheit
von Fußboden zu Decke
jetzt, während meine Lippen leben
über dem Fluß auf dem Hügel
warum so traurig mein reizendes?
das endlose, dumme merriment der Sterne
der Geruch von stieg so falsch, die zutreffenden Dornen so
allein

 



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