The wolf belongs to the boy I to the wolf
I ask permission to still be myself this time of night.
Sem barriga, sem fome, sem bebida. Blue notes
from a dead man’s tribute creep up my balcony.
Damn, you know how you know a song,
It’s Raining in L.A. What Else I’m Pose to Do
October 28, 2020
Issue 20, Issue 20 Poetry, Lusosphere, Poetry
