Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Preview screening VI

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Your grave will buy us bread.
All kinds of pain.
As French is cheap.

And Red is FREE
I never could obtain
Its thanks in singing.

I ain’t a painter
yet your grey is green.
Your two are three.

My brain is swinging
as your river Seine
and lingering.

Your grave will eat its greed.
Its greatness.
Unconscious of grief

You’ll smile and smile again
yet water only grins
‘Good riddance’.

There’s nothing else to gain
In dance, in gratitude,
But tides and algae.

Its density, you, dunce,
Have never understood,
Not once.


Leo Zelada Grajeda said...

Muy interesante tu blog.

Saludos de este poeta en Madrid

Gali-Dana said...

Hello, Leo!
Thanks for your comment.
Nice to meet you.