19 lipca 2012
I AM NOT
Time capsule in gangrene
foot. It was madness of the legs.
There were no sins in the ghetto. Only
illicit distillation and girls changing
the beds.
It stinks when he says he was god.
What was the ism of the sex
in the language of violence? Trash, you
throw the half-eaten apple on the road,
and sun rises nonchalantly in penthouse.
Not the full moon tonight. I will filter
the moonlight in my cup stealing the
autumn from the lavender, despair
of the tormenter.
Satish Verma
27 listopada 2025
wiesiek
27 listopada 2025
Belamonte/Senograsta
26 listopada 2025
jeśli tylko
26 listopada 2025
jeśli tylko
26 listopada 2025
Jaga
26 listopada 2025
wiesiek
26 listopada 2025
wiesiek
26 listopada 2025
sam53
26 listopada 2025
sam53
26 listopada 2025
sam53