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halloween poem for kid

tristemente hablando
el viejo oeste, el viejo tiempo
dios
los arcos del puente rojo
como él de quién alcohol en el resplandor del mediodía
el relámpago destellaba, y levantó
en y de sí mismo
estrella-polvo y luz vaporosa
he venido en el desierto porque mi alma es athirst
debajo de mi ventana en una calle de la ciudad

 



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