Tuche & Automaton

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

advantage

was the beginning just dioramas

trickery of your sense

I did not provoke you with my turns of verse,
you took every phrase as a signal

that every poet loves the same.

I remember summertime,
remember them all,



it is you who have become paper

young foolish gosling,

but war is characterized by such bloodshed,

and you have a weak neck.

my life now only a burden.

1 Comments:

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