Es schneit noch wieder--
mon dieu it schneit
never-ending dump of white
The snow kommt immer--
toujours just Schnee
underfoot & in the way
Wird Winter nie enden--
manchmal glaub' es wahr
tout le monde all tout d'ivoire
Salty sleety slipp'ry kalt--
through the constant precip fierce
the soleil can't remotely pierce
This lack of sun's the coup de grace--
the ice will not melt
ans Ende der Welt
So I throw down my gauntlet glove--
through Blitzkrieg, bombs or coup d'etat,
one or the other, hiver: vous ou moi.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
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1 comment:
I like your poemz.
You are very ts eliot-y. very angloo.
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