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concrete poetry

l'odore del č aumentato cosě falso, le spine cosě allineare
e come potreste sogno della riunione
vi ricordate di
le navi stanno trovandosi nella baia
la mia madre lo ha insegnato che ogni notte
uccelli contro il vento di aprile
limps con la fermata del passo doloroso
siete bei e sbiaditi
sonno dolce nelle vostre tombe humble

 



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