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poem for dad

le ombre pongono lungo broadway
morbidamente piangendo
pensate, il mio ragazzo, quando metto i miei bracci intorno voi
bench repine di amore e strofinio di motivo
forse
all'interno di questa tomba umile un conqueror si trova
stuff della luna
ci l'arsenale
qui cade nessuna luce
come le aquile sul high alto
ultima mezzanotte
era un oysterman giovane alto

 



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