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suicide poetry

was spiteful Wahrscheinlichkeit unawares stiehlt
ich bildete ein Versprechen einmal, eins nur
ich wundere mich, wo Sie leben
Tochter, thoukunst kommen zu sterben
in den mournful Zahlen
ich brenne keinen Duft
zu einigem die fetten Götter
plötzlich aus den dunklen und belaubten Weisen heraus
drehen Sie mich unten durch die Wiese
für war mich ein gaunt, ernstes Ratsmitglied
ich sah, daß Gott Sie es? bezweifeln
als es
die alten Songs
sehen Sie das vorläufige

 



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