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father poem

usted piensa, mi muchacho, cuando pongo mis brazos alrededor de usted
escuche
como él de quién alcohol en el resplandor del mediodía
dentro de mi mano sostengo
raza alto-llevada
tengo gusto de ella
y con el pájaro del tarareo
encima del sur en la rotura del día
le detesté
el niño que lanzó lejos la hoja después de la hoja
gaily a través de los campos bailamos
ella era una belleza en los días

 



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