Los Lectores Pueden Poner El Título Que Quieran a Este Poem

    And here I am Mother， slick haired and heaving

    A kind of elk， something， a sort of human elk

    Digitally inserted into the prehistory of his nation

    Twenty feet tall and roaring and extinct

    Mother， I'm a mammal， when I'm sleeping I'm exuding

    As the little pony reaches the shimmering pines

    Here I am Mother， struggling to hear

    Here's my new body， made wholly of hair

    Mother， here I am， a grown man in the snow

    Mother， the dark here is sort of enormous

    As the little pony passes through the sacred meadows

    Here I am holding the breasts of my wife

    Twenty feet tall and roaring and extinct

    The dark here， Mother， is truly enormous

    As the little pony enters the shimmering pines

    Dear Mother， I'm a mammal， in love with the pines