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short poem

fiore bianco della gomma piuma, fiore rosso della fiamma
ho visto i archangels nel mio mela-albero la notte scorsa
la mia madre twines me rose bagnate con rugiada
mentre mi sono levato in piedi ascoltare, discreetly dumb
burly, humble-ape fare un pisolino
abbiamo nessuno shame?
sono il vento che esita
ho fatto una volta soltanto un voto, uno

 



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