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thanksgiving poem

je sais pas où
dépassement par les murs blottis et laids
pourquoi
l'obscurité roule vers le haut
soudainement, hors des manières foncées et feuillues
babylon -- où je vais rêver
bien que je sois peu en tant que toutes les petites choses
voici se trouver une dame la plus belle
je descends les chemins de jardin
et pain de breaketh pas plus

 



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