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concrete poetry

tutti si acquietano lungo il potomac
e così va
a che cosa una donna la paragonerà cara
glooms delle viv-quercie
per allora senza
il rullo triste del tamburo desonorizzato ha battimento
serene di pomeriggio e luminoso verdi
non rimanga nient'altro
la notte è scura ed i venti di inverno
ho vinto la corsa

 



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