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concrete poetry

talvez
melhore do que o granito
era uma oysterman novo alto
esteja em mim como os modos eternal
eu sou o vento que wavers
acima deles todos, olhando para baixo
tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
como águias na elevação ascendente
as canções velhas
todos tragam os anos
eu não queimo nenhum incense
eu quero saber onde você vive
quem é o corredor nos céus
quando você vier hoje à noite

 



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