第1个回答 2010-12-13
Sadness, seven other handicapped
Scarabs,
Spider webs of eggs,
Heads of mice,
Bitch bones:
Barred from entering.
Don't come in.
Get lost.
Take your umbrella rolled back
South to,
Bring your snake teeth go back to
Go north.
There is a poet live here.
There is no grief can
Over the threshold.
Through these Windows
In the world's breathing,
Bright red rose,
Monogrammed for people's victory
Flags.
No.
Prohibit to come in.
Take off
You bat wings,
I will trample from your cloak
Falling feathers,
I'm going to put you in body
Patches of "one-stop" service
Saul to the four corners of the wind,
I'll wring your neck,
I shall sew dead your eyelids,
I want to knit your corpse dress,
And, ah sorrow, put your rodent
Bones are buried in the spring of apple tree.