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narrative poetry

haga a muchachos y las muchachas todavía van
behold yo, en mi chiffon, gasa y malla
la oscuridad rueda hacia arriba
mi hijo es muerto y soy persiana que va
el cuerpo puede confinar
soy el viento que duda
hice un voto una vez, uno solamente
claro de luna profundo y blando
lanzaron una piedra, usted lanzaron una piedra
hay cualquiera allí
hay una ciudad, builded por ninguna mano
dígame

 



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