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birthday poetry

dê-me a fome
eu penso d esplêndido justo
fraco-é voada a canção
no porto de york novo
meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo
como selvagem, como bruxa-como estranho que a vida deve ser
veja, desta moeda falsa dele
o relâmpago piscou, e levantou
o céu
nunca em toda minha vida
pássaros de encontro ao vento de abril
através do peito aching da terra larga

 



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