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type of poetry

ella estalló el vino feroz
en su vuelo
ciudad que no es una ciudad
los cielos que eran ashen y sobrio
en sus brazos estaba el placer inmóvil
burly, humilde-abeja el dormitar
uno por uno, como se va de un árbol
en un viejo compartimiento se encendió suavemente
ella cojea con parar paso doloroso
flores de bebés
en todas las cosas no habladas de
he tenido un miedo en mi vida
hay una ciudad, builded por ninguna mano

 



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