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slam poetry

serene de la tarde y brillante verdes
aquí cae ninguna luz
sobre el río, en la colina
glooms de los vivir-robles
no esté enojado con mí
al amante apasionado
cuando miraba en sus ojos
lleno esta taza
para mí era concejal gaunt, grave
bucks negros gordos en un cuarto del vino-barril
cómo como las estrellas es este el blanco, las caras sin nombre
mire detrás con los ojos longing y sepa que seguiré

 



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