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funny poetry

piantiamo
dai nostri posti nascosti
è venuto prenderlo dalla mano
ora che mi sono raffreddato a voi
dicami non
bucks neri grassi in una stanza del vino-barilotto
sopra il fiume, sulla collina
desolato e solo
sole e vento e battimento del mare
i cieli che erano ashen e sobrio
l'odore del è aumentato così falso, le spine così allineare
sotto la mia finestra in una via della città

 



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