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good bye poem

traurige Rolle der gedämpften Trommel hat Schlag
welches ich erwähnen möchte
mit dem Sonnenuntergang
fette schwarze Dollars in einem Wein-Faßraum
als ich in Ihre Augen schaute
unsere angenehmen Momente fliegen
truely
schreckliche Wahrheiten diese sind
ich bin der Wind, der wavers
behold ich, in meinem chiffon, in Gaze und in Filterstreifen
gibt es jedes dort
eine Feder des Stahls

 



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