#18
22/12/06 14:36 Filed in: poetry
mevlana,folding into an
aeroplane,
gaze under everything, artaud
speak no longer, godard
forming the big enigma with an unsure smile, breton
I am your child.
My heroes are forests,
books still in the form of trees.
Their pages content with air
and the rippling of a stream nearby
just minutes before civilisation.
gaze under everything, artaud
speak no longer, godard
forming the big enigma with an unsure smile, breton
I am your child.
My heroes are forests,
books still in the form of trees.
Their pages content with air
and the rippling of a stream nearby
just minutes before civilisation.