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epic poetry

il rullo triste del tamburo desonorizzato ha battimento
mi levo in piedi nel tempo grigio freddo
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
chi chiamerà il vento
dicami
movimento del vostro corpo è come musica
le ombre pongono lungo broadway
poco cancello è stato raggiunto in fine
felicità
se esso
dice a di buoni vecchi periodi
fate non sentirsi

 



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