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best friend poem

à partir des prés riches avec du maïs
le vieil ouest, le vieux temps
je sais ce que vous allez dire
dans la sphère
l'obscurité
comme des aigles sur la haute haute
oiseaux contre le vent d'avril
dans une vieille chambre s'est doucement allumé
mais alas, rêves justes
gros mâles noirs dans une salle de vin-baril

 



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