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memorial poem

no hay escape al lado del río
vea el tentativo
dios
déjeme ser triste
hermano, soy fuego
todavía recuerdo sin duda alguna
para entonces fuera
flor blanca de la espuma, flor roja de la llama
la mujer faltó mucho, cómo usted llama a mí, llamada a mí
he venido en el desierto porque mi alma es athirst
un poeta, tomando el frenillo de su lengüeta
en el frunce de la oscuridad y piden
todos se callan a lo largo del potomac

 



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