–after Emmanuel Hocquard

The house of my friends down the road
burned down.

A child plays with matches
Now he’s loose on the town.

You are like that
An absent book.

Flames
my face

Music
my face

You are like that
An absent book.

My face
My face

1 Comment

  1. Jacob says:

    I think this is a good poem, but it is kind of wierd…

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