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retirement poem

il padrone dei destini umani sono io
non sia arrabbiato con me
aranci di coglitura nubian blu-neri
amo rubare per un po'via
siete svegli?
veda, da questa falsificazione di lui
nel porto di nuovo York
come livellare cade
come come le stelle è questo il bianco, facce nameless
chi chiamerà il vento
serene di pomeriggio e luminoso verdi
là dalla finestra nella vecchia casa

 



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