This edge like a hot lava sun
Romance in the mature North Sea
You're cold like an artist who quits
Straw and stubble burn with pride
Use me; oh please use all this palaver
She leaves me with doors to open
I believe in the resurrection
I better be good
Themes of wires hid in wood
Join the monastery
Movements penetrate the seashells
Defined by narrow politics
Bury your mother and feel your impotence
All these romantic vampires
Are you going to the gathering?
I am staying at home with my coffee pot
See Ya Latter
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem