All
your flowers bloom like passion
But
they die with monotonous regularity
Their
faces falling apart like tepid applause
Ah!
why do I think of Finland when I see
Your
blue eyes after all you’ve never even
Been
to Sweden yes your lips are indeed
A
lovely misadventure O delirious laugher
Are
you like myself amiable as a horse?
Don’t
you see it’s not that I want you
To
be so knowing as all that but you are
Delicious
and I don’t mind letting you know!
Why
do you ask if roses can be charming?
Everywhere
we look we see ashes
Eager
for a guided tour of the future
Author Reading
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