Sunday 26 November 2017

Sperini Poem (draft/unfinished)

                   In all     kinds
of weather, 
we stopped           paying 
                                              and what 
         it means to know of the 
the windows stoved in
                      hitting       Tiffany's and Gucci
hitting what I what, 
out of work 
with ratio basing 
                     thanks to the 
                   cement        consumption 
                         we cannot        properly 
feel ourselves       into this nature,
 no more than 
                                                       into that of a dog 
I made the property 

the regime my speaker