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funny poetry

à partir des prés riches avec du maïs
trois jours je les ai entendus s'affliger quand je m'étends complètement
je remplis cette tasse
effrayé pas plus, je dis
c'est l'arsenal
vous vous rappelez
ces yeux noirs i une fois ainsi félicité
truely
l'enfant qui a jeté la feuille après feuille
gros mâles noirs dans une salle de vin-baril
qui est le coureur dans les cieux

 



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