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cowboy poetry

entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
nós que estiveram
sua cara é justa e lisa e fina
faça os meninos e as meninas vão ainda
em sua barraca guardada
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
eu gosto d
o prado estava rastejando
eu vim no deserto porque minha alma é athirst
eu ouvi o vento o dia inteiro
eu ando abaixo os trajetos do jardim

 



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