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concrete poetry

perchč cosě triste mio bello?
del sole né stelle
risiedo alla montagna della tabella
la mia anima va placcata nelle cose gorgeous
il dolce con il fern ed č aumentato
ho sentito tutto il giorno il vento
parla non bene
cosě caduto
eliminazione, lottante vainly
glass-blower di tempo
andato prima di noi
veda lo sperimentale
nella terra silenziosa
desolato e solo

 



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