ten yellow magpies
in the mouth of a black skull
where the blueberry garden
carries her hopes up to the end of a red clock
the snow from it bursting continues to fall
orphelines in a bloom paradox cut their bones
the tiny plume in the grass
pushes a plastic eye in a timeless interzone
the gravel from the limbs then rises
to get into a coarse fish thrown out of sea
that mouth stays open
holding their hands with darkness
and a pinch of joy while the road dissolves
with a raven walk
the sun descends
http://www.surrealistgruppen.org/COLExquisite.html
Hiç yorum yok:
Yorum Gönder