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family poetry

podríamos sino saber
bucks negros gordos en un cuarto del vino-barril
vi con los ojos abiertos
no hay presa yo de pensamientos pobres
con los ojos mansos, marrones
cómo como las estrellas es este el blanco, las caras sin nombre
mire detrás con los ojos longing y sepa que seguiré
babylon -- donde voy a soñar
deje una subsistencia de la alegría usted
el elevar, como el viento sopló

 



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