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thanksgiving poem

non ho saputo mai che la terra ha avuta così tanto oro
come lui di chi spirito nella fiammata del mezzogiorno
penso spesso alla cittĂ  bella
mi sono levato in piedi
come io aiuti alla destra il mondo che sta andando male
per questi bracci bianchi circa il mio collo
ci sono tre sensi in cui gli uomini prendono
veda lo sperimentale
ora
le preghiere bianche piccole
prima del san bronze solenne
tutti dentro e tutti senza di me

 



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