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type of poem

à partir des prés riches avec du maïs
substance de la lune
il y a trois ans d'aujourd'hui
tous en dedans et tous sans moi
et mon nom est véridique
c'est l'arsenal
ces yeux noirs i une fois ainsi félicité
babylon -- où je vais rêver
voyez l'expérimental
si le tueur rouge pensent il massacre
et avec l'oiseau de ronflement
il y avait un temps en anciennes années

 



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