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famous poem

ella estalló el vino feroz
en septiembre
una milla detrás
pharaoh, rey de la tierra de Egipto
arriba y abajo de él va
travails de la tierra
porqué son las cosas que no tienen ninguna muerte
me preguntan donde he estado
vi los archangels en mi manzana-a'rbol ayer por la noche
hay tres maneras de las cuales los hombres toman
en alguna parte leí un cuento extraño, viejo, oxidado
la señora, su corazón ha dado vuelta al polvo
behold yo, en mi chiffon, gasa y malla

 



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