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funny poetry

plantons
de nos endroits cachés
il est venu me prendre par la main
maintenant que je me suis refroidi à vous
dites-moi pas
gros mâles noirs dans une salle de vin-baril
au-dessus du fleuve, sur la colline
désolé et seul
le soleil et vent et battement de mer
les cieux qu'ils étaient ashen et sobre
l'odeur du s'est levée si faux, les épines si vraies
sous ma fenêtre dans une rue de ville

 



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