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birthday poetry

era un oysterman joven alto
en su tienda guardada
placeres mediados de y palacios aunque podemos vagar
vea el tentativo
ahora para una lucha enérgica y alegre
antes del santo de bronce solemne
pasado implacable del thou
disparando para arriba, cayendo abajo
oscilado en la horquilla del profundo
estoy parado en el tiempo gris frío
déme el hambre
en alguna parte leí un cuento extrańo, viejo, oxidado

 



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